Generation X: Next Class
by Mike N
Summary: Ch 47. Banshee and his team discover a monumental secret within the Corporation that changes everything they thought they knew. Meanwhile, Phoenix and Colossus find the source of the merger between Limbo and Earth, only to be forced to make an all-too-familiar choice. Penance is unexpectedly reunited with Wolverine and his team as they set forth for the final battle with Emplate.
1. The Hunt Begins

Foreword

Over five years ago, I wrote my first Fanfiction story, based off the Generation X title. Back then, my motivation was simply to revive one of my favorite series that had unfortunately been cancelled. After several iterations of the story, I finally published it on the site. Two years and seventy chapters later, I finished, kind of. I was simply amazed at how this story had developed life of its own and had continued to grow and mature as time went on. But it wasn't just the story that grew…I did too. I went on to write several more stories, but I kept coming back to this one. After all, it was my first.

With more experience and a sharper eye, I took a hard look at my first story and in some places asked myself, "What the hell was I doing?!" Grammatical mistakes, timeline mistakes, some lack of character development, disjointed and rushed storylines—I was horrified. What began as simple editing turned into a major rewrite of the story.

If you're reading this story for the second time, you'll see some things are the same. But you're also going to see some major differences, like new storylines, new characters, and more of the characters you know and love. For those reading it the first time, I hope you enjoy the flashback to the Generation X days and the new adventures they find themselves in. ~ Mike N.

I.

Dr. Niles Cain drove his 2005 Jeep Cherokee through the picturesque neighborhood of Elmwood Grove, the late summer sun creating a dream-like haze over the entire scene. He drove slowly past the Victorian-style houses, accented with their manicured lawns and stone walkways. The playful laugh of children, barking dogs, and cicadas filled the air, along with the smell of barbeque and a hint of wildflower.

Behind curtained windows and opened porch doors, families settled in for the evening, totally unaware of the dangers lurking around them. And for that, Niles envied them all. Knowing that one of the strongest benefactors of the city was nothing more than a front for a madman hell-bent on creating his own race to rule over the world wasn't a nugget of knowledge Niles cared to have.

And the worst part about it was that his profound work in genetics was partially, if not wholly responsible for the power they now had.

After pulled into his driveway and got out of his vehicle, Niles gave Mrs. Chancellor a courteous wave and smile then headed into his own house—a two-story, ivory colored home with a sizable oak tree that the neighborhood kids loved to climb. The inside was reminiscent of a museum, filled with dark wood furniture, various artifacts from across the world hanging on the walls and filling shelves, and a neutral, relaxing tone throughout the entire house.

But his office was a different story. Niles would have called it organized chaos, but to anyone else, it was simply a mess of books, professional journals, and papers. Niles spent most of his time there, constantly performing research for the Arminthorpe Corporation.

_The Arminthorpe Corporation…_

Niles slid into his worn leather chair and brought his computer out of its sleep mode, bathing the darkened room in a faint glow. Niles kept the curtains drawn, which blocked out any ray of warming sunlight, keeping his office cold and unfriendly. But when he thought of the Corporation, those were the only feelings that stirred in him.

Niles was thirty-four and had spent the past eleven years with the Arminthorpe Corporation. Despite his relatively young age and time with the Corporation, Niles had quickly become one of the most-renowned names in genetics research. With his remarkably handsome face and muscular build, Niles looked more like a Hollywood actor than a geneticist, which is probably why he became the face of Arminthorpe, representing the company on a global level to discuss advances in their genetic research.

His research landed him several awards both from the Corporation and at a national level, which propelled him to stardom within the world of biology and genetics. As such, the Corporation allowed him to run his own division and supplied the resources for his projects. However, that was probably the worst thing that could have happened to Niles.

With the computer fully powered up, Niles focused, his hands flying across the keyboard. In response, various windows and lengthy information files appeared on the screen. To anyone else, it would have looked like a barrage of mumbo-jumbo, but Niles understood all of it—and it knotted his stomach.

His eyes already blurring, Niles blinked a few times, gave them a quick rub then focused on the screen once again. In front of him were all of the hidden files and secrets the Corporation didn't want him to know or have, but now, Niles fully understood the true agenda of his benefactors.

_I have to destroy the Arminthorpe Corporation._

The thought itself seemed extreme and overdramatic, like a lone hero against the dominating, inherently evil corporation, but that's exactly what Niles was faced with. He didn't want to risk getting anyone else involved, though he realized that anyone involved with the Corporation was intertwined in a nefarious web. Right now, Niles knew that if he didn't do something, those closest to him would suffer a fate worse than death.

Glancing toward the window, Niles could see a sliver of night sky through a small break in the curtain. Hours had gone by, yet to Niles, it felt as if he had only stepped into his home minutes ago. Making a few final keystrokes, Niles was satisfied he had enough information to take Arminthorpe down. But there was something way too easy about this…

Suddenly feeling uneasy, Niles saved the files, creating a hidden, password-protected folder, which was then embedded in several layers of encoding. He then pulled up his e-mail, ignoring several new ones, and opened a blank e-mail. He composed a message quickly, encoded it, and then sent it.

And that's when he heard a noise downstairs.

It was a muffled shuffling, as if someone were trying to sneak around but made a wrong move. He almost instinctively knew that the Corporation somehow discovered Niles' plan, and now, they were coming to find out what he knew. And possibly kill him.

Niles stood slowly, careful not to give away the fact that he was on to the intruder. As he crept toward the door, Niles listened intently for any other indication that someone else was in his house. Focusing his senses, he heard soft, rhythmic breathing and felt the negligible shift in air current.

Taking a bat that his nephew had given him, he stepped out into the hallway, aware that the intruders were still down on the first floor. Still, the shape-altering shadows darkened otherwise familiar doorways and rooms, creating the illusion of hidden horrors. He moved stealthily, aware that though his senses were peaking, the intruders could easily mask themselves from him and quickly ambush him.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Niles took one at a time, ready to swing at the slightest provocation. The darkness thickened on the first floor, and Niles kept his back pressed to the wall as he maneuvered into the dining room then the living room toward the front door. But he didn't make it.

"Come now, Niles. You weren't thinking of using that, were you?"

A lamp clicked on and a familiar face stared back at Niles. Mason Arminthorpe, the head of Arminthorpe Corporation. He had only met the man a handful of times, but every single time reaffirmed Niles' notion that the man was untrustworthy and dangerous. Seeing him there, in his favorite reading chair, menacing shadows darkening his face simply put the final nail in the coffin.

Niles took an aggressive step towards Mason. "What the hell are you doing here? This is my home."

Mason politely smiled. "And here I figured you'd show a much more hospitable behavior toward me, Niles. You have an impeccable career and an unimaginable future—and I gave them all to you. Besides, _your_ work is what brought us to this point. We're just here to ensure you see it through to the end."

He straightened his charcoal gray suit and double Windsor knotted tie, his poster-worthy smile never faltering. He then ran his fingers though his dark, thick hair, taking an aggressive step towards Niles. "Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way."

Niles let a smile cross his lips. "Well, you know, I never do things the easy way!" With a grunt of power, he closed the gap between them and swung the bat at Mason's head. Barely flinching, Mason blocked the wild swing with his arm, shattering the bat upon contact. Taking a step back, he couldn't believe what he had just seen.

_What the hell is he? For that matter, what the hell am I?_

Preoccupied with Mason's reaction, Niles failed to notice another figure behind him, until a strong blow nearly rendered him unconscious. He stumbled and crashed into the wall, using it for support as he tried to focus.

Niles blinked, and suddenly Mason towered over him.

"Now, you're coming back to the Corporation. You and your kids."

At the mention of the kids, Niles felt a rush of adrenaline. "Like hell!" A quick, unexpected sweep threw Mason off balance, giving Niles a narrow window of opportunity to ram his shoulder into Mason's stomach then finish with a straight right to his jaw.

The other man grunted as the air rushed out of him, and he tumbled backwards. Niles would have rejoiced, but he felt a shift in the air and ducked just as three glowing daggers stuck in the wall.

Niles spotted the knife thrower, and though he was remotely surprised, he didn't show anything but contempt. "Trent. I should have known you would be here."

Trent, a younger version of Mason, gloated over Niles. "I don't miss accidentally, Dr. Cain. Surrender."

Niles stared up at the younger Arminthorpe. From what Niles knew, he could create psionic throwing knives, which were telekinetically guided to their target, enabling Trent to hit his target most, if not all of the time. But the boy was young, impetuous, and inexperienced, which Niles could use to his advantage.

He sprang up, and just as Trent threatened, he created three more daggers and launched them at Niles. But Niles proved to be much faster as dove to the side, the daggers sailing over and under him as he flew through the air. As he landed next to the couch, Niles grabbed hold of it and with one hand, slung it in Trent's direction.

The couch split in two, the halves sailing past Trent and hitting the floor with a dull _thud_. Surprised, Niles saw that Trent wasn't without his own backup—Lucas Arminthorpe stood in front of him, his arm outstretched and an impatient look etched across his face. Mason had recovered as well, and smiled as Niles found himself in a standoff with the three of them.

"Don't make me hurt you, Cain," Lucas said, his voice void of any emotion at all.

Niles regarded the boy carefully, noting the sleek, body-fitting suit he was wearing. Then he recognized it—a strength enhancing uniform, the first of its kind to be created. They were supposed to originally be issued to a special military group designed to immediately respond to any threat. Especially the mutant kind.

He tried to recall the special features of the uniform, but too many things were rushing through his mind, and he had trouble concentrating. Instead, he tried to buy himself some time. He said to Lucas, "This is madness. What are you trying to do here?"

Lucas shook his head, disappointed in his teacher's question. "Don't act as if you don't know. Matrix detected your acquisition of the Corporation's files long ago." Smirking at Niles' clenched jaw, he continued, "You didn't think that we wouldn't find out, did you? We've been monitoring you ever since you went on your sabbatical, Doctor."

"Then you knew I wouldn't just sit by idly and let you get away with what you're planning," Niles directed his comment at the trio of Arminthorpes. "Those kids are living normal lives now, no thanks to any of you."

"But they're not normal. You know that," Mason countered with a matter-of-fact tone. "And neither are you."

Niles froze. He had realized that something strange and out of his control was happening to him. But now he knew that whatever this change was, the Corporation caused it. And that fact sent a chill up his spine.

Before Niles could say or do anything else, Lucas pointed his hand at Niles and an energy-laced, snake-like projectile shot out. It wrapped tightly around Niles' chest, pinning his arms to his sides then tightening, restricting his breathing. He struggled only for a moment before a burning sensation filled his entire body. The flash of pain continued to strobe inside of his head before everything went black. He fell to his knees then toppled to the floor, unconscious.

Mason smirked haughtily. "Take him back to the lab and secure him in one of the containment units. We don't need anymore trouble from him. And dispatch the Darkmen for those children. We can't afford any more delays. Understood?"

"Yes, father," the siblings responded in unison. Lucas threw Niles over his shoulder with ease, courtesy of the suit, and fell in line behind his father and Trent as they exited the house, plied into a dark, unmarked SUV, and drove off into the night.

No one would even realize until it was far too late that Niles' fate had been sealed.

II.

Unable to sleep, Professor Charles Xavier maneuvered through the quiet halls of the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning, his Shi'ar provided hover-wheelchair humming softly as Charles glided across the floor. Lately, he felt as though sleep was a commodity that he was learning to do without. There just seemed to be no time for it as new emergencies and threats erupted at any given moment, seemingly back to back.

_No rest for the weary,_ Charles thought to himself as he entered his office. He pulled up to the large oak desk, a gift given to him by Moira MacTaggert, and turned on his computer, intending to check for any abnormal disturbances through the console link to Cerebro. But a flashing envelope icon in the bottom, right-hand corner caught his eye. Clicking on it, a message labeled _urgent_ appeared on the screen.

_Professor Charles Xavier,_

_I don't know if you remember me or not, but we met about ten years ago at the National Genetics Symposium in New York._

Charles, gifted with extraordinary psychic abilities, remembered the meeting as if it was yesterday.

The young, highly sought after geneticist had just finished a presentation on genetics and the role they played in something that was becoming a growing concern—mutations. Charles had been impressed with Dr. Cain's research, which included journals by Dr. Hank McCoy, long-time X-Man and Avenger.

There was a fifteen-minute intermission to grant the next presenter time to prepare their presentation aids. Thankful for the break, Charles happened to run into Dr. Cain in the hallway.

"It bothers me that I still don't understand the relation between DNA mutation and inner workings of controlling it. Genetic mutation isn't a simple strand of DNA that's different—Dr. Hank McCoy discovered that quite some time ago—but a whole genetic makeup alteration that actually affects the entire body. But there's some missing link, which makes the whole thing seem like magic."

"It's not magic by any means, Doctor." Charles then finished telepathically, _"It just is."_

Charles chuckled slightly as he remembered the perplexed and astonished expression on the doctor's face.

Niles's eyes had the fire of discovery burning brightly, as the scientist in him leapt at the chance to acquire the answer to something that had eluded him for quite some time. "You can…" Niles glanced around, leaning in closer and bringing his voice to a whisper. "You can project your thoughts? But how? I mean, what part of your brain controls that? How does it affect your body?"

"Being a mutant is a natural occurrence, as is the control of the specific abilities we inherit or develop. Think of it as, someone that is double-jointed or can curl their tongue. These things are genetic as well, with no solid explanation as to why. Yes, for some, their bodies are altered for the sake of self-preservation. Someone who controls lightning would have an adaptation to repel the effects of lightning themselves.

"Which would make their body immune to electrocution and the like," Niles finished. "But the actual control, I mean how do you control lightning? I mean, you just whip your hands around in the air and it's controlled?"

Charles laughed at the simplistic question. "I can't answer that completely in the short time we have. However, my school helps mutants to understand and gain control over their powers. Some of us have devastating powers that could easily destroy, which has fueled much of the government intervention with mutant rights and activities. At the same time, those powers can be used to promote and enhance the communities around us. The science between the person and the power will always be a mystery, but the fact still remains that mutants…"

An announcement for the end of the intermission interrupted Charles's last few words, as the crowd began to slowly make their way back into the auditorium.

"Looks like we've got to get back for the next presentation," Niles regretfully said. He wanted to spend much more time talking to Charles, finding the answers to the questions that had eluded him and his colleagues for so long. But instead, he said, "Professor, I appreciate your time."

Charles reached in his pocket and pulled out a business card. "Here's my contact information, including my e-mail address. You still have questions, I can tell. Feel free to contact me at any time." He handed Niles the card, then remembered something, "Oh, and by the way Hank McCoy works at the school, so maybe you could have a sit-down with him as well."

Had Niles died and gone to heaven? The most prolific mutant rights activist and one of the world's best scientists together? In one place? He couldn't believe it. But a huge grin spread across his face in anticipation. "Thank you, Professor."

"Now, I can only hope that this next presentation is as insightful as yours."

The rest of the symposium had noteworthy speakers, but Charles found himself impressed by Dr. Niles Cain because of his energy, dedication, and open mind, a rarity in the field of science. Most were focused on their work and finding answers for everything to prove something to the world, but Niles was truly interested in what he did. His demeanor was genuine, and Charles knew that he had the best of intentions with his research. If anything, Niles could potentially become a welcome ally in the fight of mutant-human equality.

Returning to the e-mail, Charles continued to read.

_Since then, I've uncovered some disturbing information about the Arminthorpe Corporation. If anything happens to me, I fear that others may be in danger as well. Don't worry about me, but find Michael Lawson. He'll know what to do from there. I apologize for getting you involved now, but please, if someone doesn't help them, I think something terrible is going to happen to them._

Charles sat for a moment then reread through the message again, pondering over the legitimacy of it. It seemed so out of the blue, but then again, it had come from Niles' e-mail address at an odd time. If anything, it wouldn't hurt to launch a simple investigation to see if there was merit to Niles' claims.

He decided not to e-mail back, but to actually send someone to first find Michael Lawson, who had been mentioned in the message. Then, they could try to find Niles, and uncover exactly what was going on. But with his own X-Men indisposed, Charles had no choice but to utilize another resource—the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters.

"_Emma,"_ Charles telepathically summoned.

Taking a moment to answer, Emma groggily responded, _"Though it seems your mutant power is to never sleep, mine isn't, Charles."_

_ "My apologies for the early morning intrusion. We may have a situation on our hands."_

_ "What crazed lunatic has blown up the mansion this time?"_

_ "Nothing of that sort. I received a strange bit of correspondence, which I'm forwarding to you as well. An old acquaintance has requested that we find a young man, who may be in danger."_

_ "Mutant?"_

_ "I don't know at this point."_

_ "The local police can easily handle this. This doesn't sound like anything for us to get ourselves entangled in. Besides, I though we were taking a step back from the mutant adventures of the X-Men. These kids need the chance to be normal for a change."_

_ "My aim isn't to disrupt the intentions of the school. And I have a feeling this is more than the police can handle, considering the Arminthorpe Corporation may have something to do with this."_

_ "Hmmm…the Arminthorpe Corporation. They're involved in advanced genetics research and other biological and ecological endeavors. They're a financial powerhouse as well."_

_ "Correct. My acquaintance believes that he has found something that could possibly endanger his and this young man's life. Considering the resources and reach of the Corporation, this could be something way out of the police's league."_

Emma sighed. _"Can it wait until I've had my coffee at least?"_

_ "Nothing is pressing at this moment, but I believe that time is limited."_

_ "We're on it…in the morning. I'm going back to sleep. You should do the same."_

_ "And Emma…thanks."_

_ "I only agreed so I could go back to sleep."_

Charles ended the telepathic communication, hoping that tomorrow morning wouldn't be too late. He spent the rest of the night in his office, unable to go back to sleep.

III.

Pain jolted Niles from his unconsciousness. His eyes shot open, but clenched quickly, the harsh florescent light from above an unwelcome first sight. He realized the aching was simply an aftereffect of Lucas's attack, leaving his body weakened and his mind groggy. As his eyes adjusted, Niles took in his surroundings.

The prison was all too familiar—Niles had helped create them. The inside was a metal gray color, everything blending together underneath the light. The walls, sink, toilet, floor, ceiling…it all was the same exact color, constructed from an alloy of adamantium and steel. It was impossible for him to break out.

Niles stood, stretching his stiff muscles. Surprised that he was still in khakis and a dark blue Polo shirt and not in some straitjacket or hospitable gown, he dusted off his clothes then took a quiet step towards the door. The small slit only let him get a glimpse of the hallway, but he knew exactly where he was—the fourth sub-basement floor of the headquarters building, a part of the building that had extremely limited access, held only by a select few of the Corporation.

At one time, he had been one of them.

Sitting back down on the rigid mattress, Niles could only hope that Charles had acted upon the e-mail. It was too late for him—which he had already accepted—but maybe they could get to the kids in time. At least they would have some kind of protection to prevent the Corporation from getting their hands back on them.

But their overall plan was still unclear. What were they planning on doing with him? What did the kids have to do with it? And why was he suddenly developing powers of his own?

Now that he was back on the inside, he pledged to do everything in his power to get to the bottom of this whole situation before it was too late for the kids. And himself.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional.

This story begins after Generation X #46; however, there will be a few noted differences as the story progresses


	2. Mind Over Matter

I.

"That's all he said?" Sean Cassidy's aquamarine eyes flared with the concern in response to Emma Frost's retelling of her conversation with Professor Charles Xavier, head of the Xavier School for Higher Learning.

Emma took a sip of her coffee, giving him a chance to marinate over what she just relayed. "If I had more to go on," she replied, "I would have told you. I read the message myself, and that's all this Niles Cain sent to Charles."

"Ach! We could be goin' on a wild goose chase," he lamented. Standing from his chair, he grabbed a glass from the cabinet and poured himself a glass of orange juice. "Besides, we're still waitin' to hear from th' school board. We cannae afford t' draw even more attention than we already have."

He, like Emma, wanted to give the students at the school an opportunity to be normal, instead of shouldering the responsibilities that came with being a mutant at Xavier's—operating as a clandestine mutant hero team, responding to threats or incidents locally and abroad. They should be able to attend a school, complain about homework, have crushed, and do the fun things that other teenagers had the chance to do. Being a mutant shouldn't eradicate the normal happenings of growing up—they shouldn't be risking their lives, but learning how to make a difference while focusing on education and learning. At least, that's what Sean had come to believe.

However, it seemed that trouble always came to their doorstep, and more times than not, the members of Generation X would become entangled in situations that called for them to defend and protect Xavier's dream. Sean had already lost many significant people in his life in that fight. There was no possible way he would let that happen to anyone else. Especially not children.

But now, they were fighting a new battle—validating themselves as an academic institution with the Massachusetts School Board. They were at the mercy of the inspector school sent by the school board, which had the power to revoke their academic license and shut them down. Emma convinced Sean to not inform Charles until the recommendation was returned, and he reluctantly agreed, only under the condition that they keep the students within the confines of the school for the duration of the summer and the first semester. And no heroics.

Now, faced with the task of finding Niles Cain and a high potential for danger, Sean wasn't so sure that honoring Charles' request was a great idea.

Emma set her coffee cup down sharply. "Sean, I'm painfully aware of our current situation. At the same time, if we have the ability to save a child from whatever twisted fate some organization has for him, then there's no reason we shouldn't act. I'm sure Charles would have sent his precious X-Men, but they're probably out saving the world. Again."

He rubbed the back of his neck, his expression and tone softening a bit. "Yuir right, but Ah dinnae want t' be bringin' trouble right t' our doorstep. Lord knows, we've had quite a bit o' it."

Averting her eyes, Emma sighed. "You may not be able to tell because you're always oblivious to my feelings, but I'm worried too, Sean. I've lost students before. We lost Clarice. I don't want to lose any of our students. As much as I loathe being in the superhero business, it's what we need to do in this case. In my mind, this is a one-time deal, since I've already expressed to Charles that we're _not_ a school for junior X-Men."

It was almost too easy for Sean to forget that Emma Frost had severe tragedies that shaped her cold demeanor. But deep down, she was a caring woman, dedicated to Charles's dream of mutant-human co-existence. She just had a hard time showing it.

He laid a gentle, consoling hand on her shoulder. "Aye. Ah'll take some o' th' kids an' find th' lad. It could all just be a misunderstandin'."

Emma passed a folder to him. "After Charles interrupted my sleep, I used Cerebra to access general information about him. He's seventeen, living by himself in Snow Valley, working for a satellite security office underneath Chief Authier, enrolled at Snow Valley High School about to start his senior year. His records are clean, from what I could find. There's nothing overtly suspicious about him."

Sean flipped through the folder as she spoke, glancing over the file while listening to the brief overview of the contents. His trained eyes already knew what to look for, as an ex-Interpol agent, so he was through the contents at the same time she finished. He took a few moments to study a couple photos of the target then handed the folder back to her.

She was right. From the picture, Sean saw nothing even remotely threatening about Michael Lawson. He looked a bit young for his age, appeared to work out regularly, and kept a clean haircut. His stern brown eyes, chocolate complexion, and serious expression gave him a distinctive look, but he didn't seem too out of the ordinary. Sean assumed a few personality traits from the picture, but then decided to wait until they had met him to make any more judgments.

"We should be able t' track th' lad down pretty quickly," he said. He grabbed a set of car keys off of the rack hanging by the refrigerator. "Afterwards, we can talk t' Charles about what t' do next."

"Sean," she called as he walked out. "Be careful. This seems way too easy."

He winked and smiled, a dimple forming in his cheek. "Ah already figured that. We'll be back…with th' lad."

Emma, now alone in the kitchen, glanced at the folder. _I hope that you're worth the trouble, Michael Lawson._

II.

The Snow Valley Police Department satellite station, currently manned by Michael Lawson and Jude McDowell, was located near the high school and junior college amongst other small businesses. The quaint building had been converted from a long-closed convenience store and served an important capacity as an on-site quick-response unit for any emergencies at either one of the schools.

Though the personnel there were trained for threat response, they mostly spent their time behind the desk, simply answering the phone and relaying information from the main police headquarters to the surrounding area. It had come to be an uneventful, yet well-paying summer job for the high school students, which is why Michael and Jude were there.

Michael, friends with Jude since he first arrived in Snow Valley, made an effort to align his shifts with his, since most of the other people that worked there were either annoying or obnoxious. Or a combination of both. Throughout the week, the two of them would man the office, visited by Chief Dan Authier every once in a while just to ensure they weren't sleeping on the job. Michael usually used the time to study, since he was in a summer course. Jude was in the same course and had the same amount of homework, but he chose to catch up on his television watching.

Michael shifted in his seat, as he pushed himself through the next paragraph of his Human Resource Management book. Taking a summer class wasn't easy, especially when the copious amounts of reading came from a book that seemed to instantly put him to sleep. The material itself was interesting, but the book made it all seem dry and boring.

The same was true of the teacher.

Still, he had chosen to take the class, instead of enjoying his summer break like the rest of his peers. So, he sighed and continued to push through the next sentence for the fifth time.

"Hey, Mike. Check out the news," Jude said.

His abrupt announcement tore through Michael's concentration. Annoyed, he glanced up at the television, where the familiar face of Graylon Walsh filled the screen.

_ "The police are still investigating the mysterious accidents caused involving a school board official and the students of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. The school board official, who will remain nameless, is stabilized after suffering a heart attack. This board official's known last location was the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, but they have been unavailable for comment. I would like to strongly advise our viewers to stay away from that area until the police can adequately determine the safety of our citizens from the mysterious and dangerous residents in that area. As more details surface, we will ensure the information gets out to all of our viewers. This is Graylon Walsh reporting."_

Michael shook his head, as the familiar piano and string piece blared from the television, signaling a break from Channel Six News. He could feel his own annoyance level soaring after the news snippet. "A report on Xavier's again? I figured Graylon would have found something else to take up his time," he flatly stated.

"You know, some strange things tend to occur up there though," Jude said, using the remote to turn the volume back down. He turned to his coworker, his expression serious. "I told you, my brother and his friends went up there last Halloween, and man, did they have a story to tell."

"Yes. You told me a hundred times. And I've asked a hundred times, what's so special about that school that makes everybody so damn interested in it? It's a private school for rich kids. Nothing more, nothing less. Everyone in this town makes too big of a deal about that place."

"Don't get so upset. It's probably because it's so far out of the way, and because it's supposedly a training camp for mutants. Same with the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning."

Michael rolled his eyes. "Did you read that in another one of Graylon's tabloid reports?"

"No, man. Are you living in a bubble? It's always on Fox News."

"Whatever. I don't pay attention to that nonsense. Besides, I have no interest in Xavier's at all."

"You sound pissed."

Michael closed the book and rubbed his eyes. "No, I'm not. This reading is so boring. And Graylon's incessant overexposure of that school really bothers me."

Jude nonchalantly shrugged. "If there are mutants up there, I'm sure people want to know. Since you don't pay attention to the news, you don't see how this Magneto guy has held people hostage multiple times, using his powers to attack the Army and anyone else that got in his way. People see mutants as dangerous weapons. And it doesn't seem that any of them are disputing it."

"Does everyone want to know if their neighbor had a gun in their house? Probably not, even though statistically, gun deaths are soaring. The news doesn't report on that. They look for the sexy stuff—"

Jude chuckled.

"I'm serious. They look for whatever story that will keep people tuned into their station. Mutants tend to draw ratings. That's it. If they turned their attention to the stuff that really mattered, maybe people's perspective on what was important in this world would change."

"You know, I think you should be a mutant, and on behalf of mutants everywhere, rally against the negative publicity and put mutants in a positive light."

"Isn't that what Xavier's is for? Besides, if I were a mutant," Michael paused for effect, "I probably would have tied you into a knot and fried your brain with my mind powers."

"Hey, don't say that too loud. People will start to believe you," Jude laughed at his own joke. "Actually, you're probably the last person I would think was as a mutant. You're too straight-laced and serious for that kind of lifestyle. I think you could pass for a robot though."

"Well, I must be doing a good job keeping up the front," Michael joked. He glanced at his silver Fossil watch and noticed it was 4:15, a little past time for them to have closed. "We should have closed up fifteen minutes ago. You can go ahead. I can close up the office."

"Are you sure? I could stay," Jude replied.

"It only takes a few minutes to run through the checklist. I'm good. Besides, I'm heading out to the track after this."

"Thanks, bro." Jude grabbed his backpack and tossed it over his shoulder. "I'll see you in class on Monday. Michael waved as Josh walked out, the door closing behind him.

Michael sighed loudly and sat back in his chair, knowing that his threshold of mutant talk, Graylon Walsh, and Xavier's had maxed out for the day. He liked Jude, but sometimes, his choice of conversation only managed to cause more annoyance than anything else every once in a while.

He stood and stretched, his muscles stiff from sitting for almost eight hours. He took a deep breath as he honed his thoughts. As though brought to life, Michael's books floated into his bag, the items on the desk were rearranged, and the television turned off simultaneously. The checklist floated to his hand, and he annotated the completed tasks then signed his name at the bottom.

_If only he knew,_ Michael smiled to himself as he grabbed his bag and locked the door behind him.

III.

Monet St. Croix took in a relaxing breath as she settled into the soft armchair in the corner of the living room. It had long been her favorite place to settle down with a good book, and now, Monet wanted to take advantage of the momentary silence throughout the mansion. It wasn't often that Monet had time to do something _she_ wanted to do, without unwanted interruptions from everyone else.

She tucked her long, athletic legs underneath herself as she settled in and opened the book. Almost immediately, a mortified scream erupted from upstairs. Nearly dropping her book, Monet whipped around and was ready to launch herself at whatever enemy that had dared interrupt her reading.

"Angelo! You freakin' perv!"

In the following second, Angelo Espinoza dashed down the stairs then bounded into the living room. Jubilee, who had screamed, was right on his heels, but less graceful in her pursuit. She nearly slipped on the rug at the top of the stairs, and then on the way down, Jubilee missed a step, but caught herself before taking a huge spill.

Monet shook her head, shooting Jubilee a withering glare. "Any time there is obnoxious, childish behavior occurring, I can always count on you to be an integral element in the situation, Lee."

"Shove it, M!" Jubilee continued in her graceless pursuit of Angelo, who had circled around and bounded back up the stairs. "I'm gonna light you up so bad…" she shouted as she dashed past Everett Thomas, who flattened himself against the wall to avoid behind run down.

Shaking her head, Monet said to Everett, "What shenanigans are they partaking in now?"

Everett smiled, as if he had a good story to tell. "So, it started when Jono dared Angelo to raid Jubilee's underwear drawer. Jubilee found Angelo with her training bra on and a pair of her underwear on his head." Everett chuckled a bit, having seen Angelo doing a wacky dance as Jubilee came around the corner. As the laughter subsided, Everett sat down on the couch across from Monet and continued the story. "Of course, sparks began to fly—literally. Angelo managed to make it out alive, so Jubilee chased him down. Well, she didn't see her own pair of skates lying in the hallway and fell over them. They've been running around ever since."

"Childish games. When will they ever reach my stage of maturity?" Monet gave a longing sigh, shook her head then opened her book again. "Probably never," she added, answering her own question.

"Monet, I know you're reading, but do you have a second?"

Monet didn't look up from the book as she replied, "If there is something you need, Everett, I'm sure that it can be postponed until I am no longer reading."

Everett sighed, knowing that she would answer like that, totally oblivious of anyone but herself. But yet, there was that rare side of her that he caught every now and again that was passionate, considerate, and caring. Now wasn't one of those times.

Shrugging off the response, Everett stood and headed towards the front door. "I'm just going to hang out in the front then and think about some things. If you want to take a break from reading, you can join me." With that, Everett walked out the front door, and the living room was quiet once again, much to Monet's satisfaction.

But only a few seconds had passed before Monet slightly regretted her blatant disregard for Everett's transparent attempt to talk to her. And she had to admit to herself that she wouldn't have minded spending some time with him outside on such a marvelous day. She hated to think that she could actually be developing feelings for Everett, something that she would never verbally admit to anyone. And the fact remained that everyone knew about Jubilee's crush on Everett.

Before she could explore any further into her own feelings, Paige Guthrie was suddenly there, peering over Monet's shoulder, trying to get a quick glimpse of the book she was so engrossed in.

"Is there something that I can help you with, Paige?" Monet icily asked as she shut the book again.

Paige circled around and sat practically in the same spot Everett had. She fidgeted for a moment then blurted out, "What do you think about trying to see if we can join the X-Men? I mean, we've been training here for some time now, and we should always be striving to do bigger and better things, right? My brother did it. And I shouldn't be concerned about age—Kitty Pryde was thirteen when she joined the X-Men. But I think it's something we should decide as a whole."

Monet gave her an almost fleeting glance before returning to her book. "If you have reached the point in your life where you undoubtedly feel the need to expand your horizons then you should do so. However, I wouldn't recommend a decision based on others' convictions and desires."

Paige nodded, fully absorbing what Monet was saying. "I guess you're right."

"Of course I am. Did you somehow expect me to give you a _wrong_ answer?"

"I guess not. And thanks, Monet," Paige smiled before continuing on her path to the kitchen.

Monet returned to her book once again, hoping to find out what happened to the Englishman that had been deceiving his wife. Almost five minutes later, the living room was brimming over with bustling and activity. Frustrated, Monet closed her book, and was honestly surprised at her surroundings.

Jubilee, Jono, and Angelo chatted on the couch, while Everett and Paige took refuge at a small table off to the side, engrossed in a chess game. Her twin sisters, Claudette and Nicole, along with Yvette sat by the television, watching some Japanese Anime-inspired cartoon, while Gaia watched from the other armchair.

Had Monet had another spell? She hadn't progressed any in her book, yet a significant amount of time seemed to have passed. It had been some time since such a thing had happened, so she thought they had simply disappeared, like a childhood ailment. As she pondered over the possibilities, she had to calm herself down as to not look alarmed in front of her teammates.

"Man, I am so like bored," Jubilee sighed as she blew a medium-sized, pink bubble then sucked it back in. She had finally settled down from earlier, but the quiet, though appreciated at first, was getting to her.

Monet, still trying to play it cool, couldn't resist a jab. "It seems, Lee, that you have not the gumption, nor the will to entertain yourself. Though I sincerely hate to be the bearer of bad news, no one has the tedious duty of keeping you entertained."

Jubilee turned on Monet. "Are you freakin' kidding me? Who do you like think—"

"Come on, chica. No sense in getting all worked up. We're all friends here," Angelo smoothly interjected, his soothing Spanish accent punctuating his every word.

A pleasant female voice cut into an obnoxious fast food commercial, grabbing the teens' attention. _"We interrupt your program for a special news report from Channel Six News."_

Subsequently, the screen changed from the Channel Six logo to a close-up of a tanned blond. His dark blue eyes peered into the camera as he flashed a smile. His sharp brown suit and gold tie made him look like a correspondent for a high profile news station.

_"Good morning, Snow Valley. Graylon Walsh reporting on a significant incident that landed a school board official in the hospital."_ The Snow Valley Hospital towered over him in the background. He shifted so the camera man could get a good shot of the front doors. _"The police are still investigating the mysterious accidents caused involving a school board official and the students of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. The school board official, who will remain nameless, is stabilized after suffering a heart attack. This board official's known last location was the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, but they have been unavailable for comment. I would like to strongly advise our viewers to stay away until the police can adequately determine the safety of our citizens from the mysterious and dangerous residents in that area. As more details surface, we will ensure the information gets out to all of our viewers. This is Graylon Walsh reporting."_

Jubilee pressed the power button on the remote, turning off the television. "That guy like totally grinds my nerves!" She stood defiantly with her hands clenched at her sides. "He's always tryin' to like make us into tha baddies. He like doesn't even know half of what goes on up here. I don't like _ever_ see him report on tha lives we save."

"Hey!" Nicole interjected. "We were watching cartoons!"

"Sorry," Jubilee grumbled as the animated show filled the television screen once again.

"Is there something wrong with the reporter?" Gaia sincerely asked. It had only been a few weeks since Everett had saved her from the collapsing Citadel of the Universal Amalgamator. As a new inhabitant of this world, it seemed that everyday was a unique learning experience for her, although sometimes, her friend's explanations for circumstances left her feeling even more confused.

"Girl, they are like tha scum of tha earth," Jubilee explained. "They're only out ta totally make a name for themselves, no matter who gets in tha way."

"Reporters are _scum_?" Gaia repeated, envisioning the reporter's insides as a slimy, dark-colored goo held together by a thin layer of fake skin. She frowned, disgusted at the idea that a reporter could exist and roam freely. "Such a foul creature should be expelled from existence!" she adamantly declared.

Paige chuckled. "Some people agree with you and would add lawyers and the paparazzi to the hit list."

Gaia appallingly gasped. "There are even more of these _scum_ beings roaming the lands? Why has no one exterminated these monsters?"

Everett shook has head, giving Paige and Jubilee a chastising look. "I think you're misunderstanding what they're saying—"

From the kitchen, Sean entered the living room dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. His face rested in a firm, pensive expression as he eyed the students. "Everett, Jono, and Monet. Ah'm goin' into town t' locate someone that may be in trouble. If yuir not busy, Ah'd like for ye t' accompany me."

"Like when did Monet get on the emergency rescue committee?" Jubilee asked, crossing her arms with a glare the made Sean smile. "Her snobby, holier-than-thou attitude's only gonna get tha kid upset."

"Tis nothin' serious lass. It's just in case the lad is actually in some sort o' trouble," explained Sean.

"Guess that means our chess game is on hold," Everett told Paige. To Sean, he asked, "What kind of trouble?"

"Ah cannae say. Hopefully, we'll get to the lad first. Then, we can figure out exactly what's goin' on."

Monet turned around with a slight, almost wicked smile. "Angelo, while we are away, make certain that Jubilee recuperates by taking a mid-day siesta. You are aware that children commence to whine and complain when they are exhausted, which grates on everyone's nerves. Jubilee is no exception to this."

"Is it totally wrong for me to like absolutely _hate_ you?!" Jubilee mumbled.

"My looks, my brains, my perfection—I'm not surprised that you hate me. I'm usually the envy of my peers." With a flip of her long, silky black hair, she stood and strolled toward Sean. "Mr. Cassidy, I'm prepared to go now."

Sean shook his head. "Aye, lass, ye certainly have a way with words."

Everett and Jono headed out the door, talking between each other about the abruptness of the whole situation. Monet strode behind them, and Sean brought up the rear, closing the door behind him.

"That was kind of sudden. I hope everything's alright," Paige said as she scribbled down the various places of each chess piece in traditional chess nomenclature.

"They're totally fine, Paige," Jubilee replied with an overly exaggerated nonchalant tone. "It's not as if the kid is gonna get attacked in broad daylight."

IV.

About twenty minutes after leaving the security office, Michael rounded the track, sprinting as fast as he could. Though his muscles were working overtime, his long stride and relaxed expression made sprinting look easy as he glided over the finish line, slowed, then walked down the lane.

Hands over his head, he looked at his watch and frowned. "Not fast enough," he mumbled to himself. He concentrated on taking deep breaths—in through his nose and out through his mouth just as Coach White had taught him. For the past few months, he had been out at the track, doing multiple sprints, striving to improve but so far, his times hadn't gotten any closer to his goal.

Previously, he joined the high school track team as a freshman, making a name for himself pretty quickly. But when it came to actually competing, he struggled against more experienced runners, leaving him feeling inadequate and unskillful. At the end of the year, he told the coach that he wanted to focus in on his grades, but in reality, he was trying to escape his negative feelings about running.

For a while, he felt bad about leaving, but as his grades improved, Michael slowly began to regret his move, and before long, he wanted to rejoin the track team. But it had been years since he had sprinted hard, so he knew that he had some training to do on his own before jumping back into it. Yet, he wasn't any better than when he initially left the team, which was frustrating.

He sat on the ground, grabbing his water bottle. He took a large gulp, slipped on his running suit, and threw his backpack over his shoulder. Turning his face toward the sun, he took a deep breath, relishing the clean, crisp air of late summer. He closed his eyes, just to relax for a moment. When they opened, he became aware of four strangers standing near the bleachers. The redheaded man with the group began to approach Michael, followed by the others. "G' day, lad!" he cheerfully called. He had a heavy Irish accent and a weathered, almost dangerous look to him, despite his friendly mannerisms. "Ye looked good."

"Thanks. I'm trying to get ready for track season. Is there something I can help you with?" Michael asked, suddenly unsure if he should even himself involved with them. They looked like an eclectic bunch—the middle-aged redheaded man, a modelesque girl, an average-looking guy, and another guy who was wrapped in a scarf, despite it being in the eighties. There was no logical reason that they would be together, which made Michael highly suspicious.

"Pardon m' lack o' manners. I'm Sean Cassidy. This here is Monet St. Croix, Everett Thomas, and Jonothon Starsmore," Sean motioned to the respective individual as he said their name. "Are you Michael Lawson?"

_ St. Croix? I know that name…_

Answering Sean, he replied, "Yes, I am. Is there something wrong?"

"A friend o' ours received a strange message last night from Dr. Niles Cain. Do ye know him?"

Michael felt the blood drain from his face. "Dr. Cain?! Has something happened?"

"That's what we were hopin' t' find out. Th' message had instructions to find ye. Has he contacted ye at all?"

"No, I haven't heard from him since—it's been awhile," he corrected himself mid-sentence, still unsure of whether he should trust them or not. But if somehow, Dr. Cain had contacted them, maybe he knew that they were trustworthy. However, their sudden appearance still cast a shadow of doubt, and he stayed on his guard.

"Nothing out of the ordinary has occurred, has it?" the male introduced as Everett asked.

Michael shook his head, alarms suddenly going off in his head. "No. Nothing." But immediately he thought of the past few weeks where he swore he was being followed, the night that he thought someone had been in his apartment, and other strange, seemingly insignificant situations that now seemed monumental given this new development.

"Look, I think that I should go," Michael suddenly said, feeling the need to go back and call Dr. Cain. He walked past Sean, and surprisingly, the man reached out and gently grasped his arm. "Leave me ALONE!" he yelled as a strong force suddenly blasted Sean's entire body, knocking him backwards against Jono, who managed to catch him. "I—I'm sorry," he stammered before turning and sprinting away.

"Ach! The lad packs quite a punch," Sean said as Jono helped him to his feet. "He's a mutant, so that could be part o' th' reason he's in trouble. Don't let him out o' yuir sight. Keep a low profile, but if ye need t' use yuir powers, do so sparingly."

They separated into two teams: Jono and Everett decided to follow Michael directly, using Everett's synching ability to track him, while Sean and Monet took another route, hoping to intercept Michael before he got too far.

Michael glanced over his shoulder, thinking the strangers would be right on his heels. But they were too far back—he would be able to lose them easily.

_Who the hell were those guys? What happened to Dr. Cain? Does this have something to do with the Corporation?_

Questions filled his head, but his main goal right now was to distance himself from those four, whoever they were. For all he knew, they could have been behind the strange occurrences over the past few weeks, secretly following and watching his every move for some unknown enemy.

_ You already know who the enemy is._

Michael ran into the campus, dodging pedestrians as he tried to figure out a place to hide so he could at least collect his thoughts. _The security building! I'll head back there,_ he decided as he made a sharp turn, ran down a corridor, through a courtyard, then past the campus access gate. In a matter of minutes, he was at the front door to the security building.

He fumbled in his bag for the keys, suddenly feeling like one of the ill-fated characters of a horror movie, who could never retrieve their keys from their bag in enough time to escape the monster that happened to be chasing them. His fingers brushed across the keys, and Michael's heart leaped for joy.

"So you plan on locking yourself within that office? Then what?"

Startled, Michael nearly dropped the keys. The girl—Monet—leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, as she glared down her nose at him.

_ Why didn't I sense her?_ Michael wondered for a fleeting second. To her, he said, "You people—I don't know who you are or how you know Dr. Cain, but I—"

_ There's someone behind me!_

Michael spun to find Sean walking up towards him. "We're not here t' hurt ye, lad. If ye just calm down a wee bit, maybe we could have a chat about what's goin' on."

And on the other side, Everett and Jono rushed up, having somehow found him, despite his quick, evasive maneuvers. Michael found himself trapped, and though he didn't want to fight them, they seemed to be giving him no choice.

"I'm warning you all—" he threatened as a rippling azure energy cascaded around him, whipping his clothes and throwing small nearby objects outward. "I really don't care who you are. Leave me alone."

_A mutant—and a powerful one too. Things just got complicated,_ Sean realized. But before he could object, his students sprang into action, just as they were trained to do.

Monet took to the air then charged straight at Michael. "Stand down, or I'll—"

With the speed of a thought, Monet was forcefully thrown against the brick wall, leaving behind a body-sized dent. Her invulnerability protected her for the most part, but Monet still found the wind knocked out of her as she slowly got to her feet.

_"You pillock!"_ Jono tore away the black scarf covering the lower part of his face and chest to reveal a furnace of glowing biokinetic energy. Reacting to his thoughts, Jono released a beam directly at Michael. He reacted quickly, raising his hands to create a telekinetic shield, which clashed brightly with Jono's biokinetic energy. The light and energy being expended continued to grow, creating an unseen ripple in the atmosphere that swayed lampposts and shook windows.

Michael maintained his focus then turned his defensive stance into an offensive attack, lashing out with his own telekinetic force blast. The powerful maneuver created a psi-backlash against Jono that took him off his feet. He hit the ground hard.

Everett, shocked that his two teammates went down, concentrated on analyzing and synching to Michael's bio-energetic aura. His entire perception of the scene changed from normal vision to a multicolored schema, reflecting energy output. But Everett couldn't believe what he was seeing. In comparison to Monet and Jono, the light around Michael shone brightly and cascaded outward, almost overshadowing theirs.

Externally, the light around Everett shifted and bent, creating a multicolored aura extending an inch from his skin, the outward result of Everett using his powers. Michael saw this and prepared himself for another attack.

_ They're all mutants!_

The realization made sense. The eclectic bunch they were, the reason he couldn't sense Monet's presence, the boy with the scarf—and chances were, they were the bunch from Xavier's. But what exactly did they want from him? And more importantly, whose side were they on?

But things had already gone too far. Reasoning and persuading were out of the window, and now, only sheer power would have the last word. And Michael was positive he would win.

_So much for keeping a low profile,_ Sean groaned internally. Aloud, he shouted, "Everett, stand down."

"But Sean, he—"

Sean held up a hand to silence Everett. To Michael, Sean said, "And lad, Ah'll ask ye only once to listen to me. We're from Xavier's—"

_ I knew it!_ Michael exclaimed internally.

"—and ye may be in danger," Sean explained.

Reluctantly, Michael let the fire-blue energy dissipate into the air, as he eyed the group suspiciously. "I don't like being followed then attacked by people who are supposedly trying to help me. Besides, I can take care of myself," he kept a cold tone, still mistrustful of the Irishman and his companions' motives. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Monet and Jono, the ones that attacked him, regarding him with just as much suspicion.

Sean offered a friendly smile. "I don't doubt that ye can, lad. We want t' honor th' request that yuir Dr. Cain sent t' Professor Charles Xavier."

"I think we've got company…" Everett said as human-formed figures materialized from seemingly nowhere.

Michael studied the creatures, trying to comprehend the actual existence of something that defied logic and reason. They had the build of an average-sized male, but their shadowy skin and featureless faces made them look like animated shadows. They wore a battle outfit that resembled something he had seen before, but right now, he simply couldn't place it.

They moved stealthily, almost too fluidly as they surrounded the group. Though eyeless, their heads were focused in on them, as if they could actually see through other means.

Sean asked, "Any o' those things look familiar t' ye, lad?"

"Never seen them before. What are they?"

Monet answered, "Undeterminable. But I am unable to detect any sentient thoughts emanating from them. My hypothesis would be that they're humanoid creatures, controlled by someone else far enough away to stay hidden from my telepathic probe."

_ That's why I couldn't detect her. She's has psionic powers too. _

Everett asked, "Monet, Jono, are you both okay?"

Jono answered, _"Fine, though I owe that bloke a one-on-one in the Danger Room."_

"Anytime, _chap,_" Michael replied, mocking his British accent.

Monet threw Michael a devastating glare as she replied. "I was caught off guard. Believe me, such an opportunity will not present itself again."

"Ye can either fight with us, or we can let these things take ye. Yuir choice."

"Glad to see that you're giving me great options to work with," Michael flatly replied. "As long as your kids don't hit me in the back, I'm with you."

"Trust me, when I hit you, it won't be a surprise," Monet said before springing into action, followed by Jono and Sean,

"Ev, stay with Michael," Sean directed.

Michael then heard a booming shout that seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. The sound itself was raw and untamed, an amplified version of one man's wail of dominance. The figures reacted violently to the sound, pitched back as if they had been physically hit by a brutal force.

"What—what was that?" Michael asked.

"He's codenamed Banshee. He's in charge of the school," Everett explained.

_Wow!_ Michael thought. He found it amazing that someone could generate concussive sound waves that were powerful to physically affect matter on a devastating level.

But before he could think about it any more, he and Everett were surrounded by the shadow figures. He ducked underneath a wild swing then retaliated with a telekinetically reinforced kick, striking the shadow figure in the jaw. He then whipped around with a side kick to one that had crept up behind him. And to the last few, he lifted them effortlessly with his telekinesis and threw them into another wave of shadow figures.

Everett handled himself quite well, thanks to the unarmed combat lessons from Tom Corsi and Sean. Though lacking the grace of Michael's obvious martial arts training, Everett's combination of street fighting, boxing, and self-defense got the job done. As Everett threw a shadow figure over his shoulder, another suddenly appeared. Then disappeared.

Monet flew with the shadow figure in a head lock, spun gracefully, then let it go, watching with a satisfied smile as it collided with three other shadow figures.

"And her?"

"That's M. And the other guy is Chamber."

Michael caught a glimpse of Jono's biokinetic energies lancing out towards a group of the shadow figures. The sun-colored energy danced around Jono, strictly at his command.

"And what about you? What can you do?"

"Anything I want."

Everett smiled as the multicolored aura appeared again. Everett opened his mouth, and a reverberating shout erupted from his throat, tearing through an oncoming barrage of shadow figures. His aura changed abruptly, glowing brighter for a moment before returning to its original luminance. He then shot forward, soaring only a foot off the ground right into a group of shadow figures, taking out their legs as he zipped around like a killer bee's assault. There was another noticeable aura shift then he was using biokinetic energy blasts to take down his opponents.

Michael couldn't believe that such powerful people had come to his aid. And were willing to defend him against whoever was attacking him. If nothing else, he would at least hear what they have to say—if they ever got rid of these shadow figures.

"Well, call me Marvel," he said as he snapped toward an oncoming wave of shadow figures. Extending his hand, the figures froze mid-stride. Twisting his hand upward, the figures responded by rising into the air until they were suspended several feet from the ground. His telekinetic energies began to illuminate his entire body and the figures held in his invisible grasp. Still holding them in the air, he then turned to the rest of the shadow warriors and psychically pinpointed all of them, focusing in on the shadow figure's sub-level psychic connection.

"You're all finished," he coldly stated as a psychic flash ripped through all of them simultaneously. Michael dropped the shadow figures, now limp and completely lifeless, as the others collapsed to the ground. In the following second, they dissolved into nothing.

"What did ye do t' them?" Sean asked as he glided then landed next to Michael.

Michael let his telekinetic energy dissipate as his eyes returned to their normal brown color. "They had a psychic connection to each other. I simply exploited it, creating a psychic backlash of sorts. Whoever was controlling them probably felt a fraction of the feedback too."

_"You could've just done that in the first place,"_ Jono shot as he rewrapped his scarf around his blazing chest and lower face.

Everett glanced around, concerned about the people nonchalantly strolling down the sidewalk as if nothing had happened. "I expected the police to swarm this place, but no one's even reacting."

Michael replied, "Don't worry. I masked us from the entire block. No one will ever know this happened."

Sean frowned, abhorring the mind-altering technique that psychics around him liked to use so much. Like Emma. And Monet. Though he detested it, he had to admit that it was necessary in this case to avoid any more attention being brought to them.

"An attack in broad daylight," Sean commented, more of a spoken thought than speaking to someone, remembering Jubilee's comment. "Whoever's after ye is gettin' bold or desperate. Either way, yuir not safe."

"Mr. Cassidy, the Corporation knows that these shadow figures were no match for me. They were testing my limits. But they were testing all of you too. Wherever they are," Michael scanned the horizon, hoping to catch a telltale sign of their voyeur, "they know that you're involved. You and your school are in just as much danger as I am."

V.

Watching the scene through a handheld device that resembled an iPod, Lucas Arminthorpe stared intently at the data points scrolling across the screen as the entire scene with Michael Lawson and the four mutants continued. Michael was clearly strong, but what surprised him was the others' strength in comparison. In their own right, they were powerful mutants, which made them of interest to his father.

Lucas stayed away from the fight, hidden both physically and mentally by his bio-body armor. The stealth mode was a recent addition, which turned out to be immensely useful. Even the world's most talented psychics would have a difficult time detecting him, and he was practically invisible to every kind of possible viewing aid from infrared to x-ray to night vision to thermal imaging.

As the shadow figures dissolved into dust, Lucas contacted headquarters. "I recorded and transmitted the data for our new players. Did you get it all?"

"Yeah. I got it. Pretty good stuff. I'm translating all the raw data now. You gonna be able to get Lawson?"

"I'm aborting the mission. We'll deal with him later."

_Michael Lawson, always the resourceful one, eh? No matter what you do, you still belong to us, and I'll make sure you don't get away._

With a touch of his button, there was a shift in the atmosphere then he was gone.

VI.

Mac's Diner was Everett's suggestion, offered when Sean wanted a place to sit down and calmly talk. It was a small burger place located on the corner of Austin Bluffs Avenue and Woodmen Road. It was a well-known and popular restaurant, known for its fresh ingredients, healthy portions, and amazing desserts. During the evening, it had become a local hangout for teens, especially after a football game or other major sporting event at the school.

It was Jubilee's favorite place to eat and hang out, and she never missed an opportunity to invite Everett and Angelo along. Paige would go with them every once in a while, but she usually complained about the food being too fatty.

The owner, Patrick MacIntosh or simply Mac, gave Everett and the others a friendly wave, before they slid into a back corner booth where they could talk without being overheard by any of the other customers. A waitress named Alice took their order, giving Sean a flirtatious smile, before heading back to the kitchen.

Sean studied Michael surreptitiously for a moment. If not for the incident earlier, Sean would have thought him to be just another young-looking teenager—average height, toned runner's build, and smooth features. Right now though, Michael was closed to them, mistrustful and probably scared but not wanting to show it. Sean figured him the type to hide his emotions.

Everett, sensing an uneasy silence, broke the ice. "Hey, you handled yourself pretty well out there. But those things, what were they? And who's after you?"

"I haven't seen those things before, but there's no doubt that they were sent by the Arminthorpe Corporation. I didn't think anyone knew that I was here in Snow Valley, but I was wrong. And if that's the case, the others are probably in just as much danger."

"The others?" Sean repeated, his expression settling into intense concern.

Monet cocked an eyebrow as she flipped her hair. "If these others have the same situational awareness that you possess, surely they're already doomed."

Michael quickly decided that regardless of the familiarity of the name, he didn't like her one bit. Ignoring Monet, Michael replied, "There are seven of us, all mutants. Dr. Cain dissolved the program we were involved in about a year ago without much explanation then sent us back to our families. I decided to stay in Snow Valley without his knowledge to kind of keep an eye on him. We all had the feeling that something was going on—something that he wasn't telling us."

"I fail to comprehend the relationship between you and this Cain individual. If he has departed without imparting any information, there's a high probability that he would rather not be located," Monet stated nonchalantly.

_"Yer bein' kind of hard on him, aren't you, gel?"_ Jono telepathically asked to Monet only.

_"I'm flabbergasted that you would even consider an iota of sympathy for him. Not only did he assault us, but his story seems implausible and outlandish. Not to mention storybook convenient. A nefarious corporation that kidnaps and relentlessly pursues teenaged mutants? Really."_

_ "I got over the assault thing five minutes ago…maybe you should do the same. Besides, we've been in some pretty random plots ourselves,"_ Jono responded.

_ "And his story isn't that far-fetched,"_ Everett added, surprising Monet and Jono. He synched with Monet just enough to obtain a small portion of telepathic ability so he could speak to them as well. _"Sorry, but I can tell when you guys are having a psi-conversation. Whatever's going on, he and his friends are probably going to need our help."_

_ "You don't understand. He's the reason—"_

"I think that it's rude to have psi-conversations around people. Especially when you're talking about them," Michael shot aloud, surprising everyone at the table. "In case you didn't figure it out, I'm a mid-level psi, a bit higher on the scale than anyone at this table."

Sean shot a chastising glance at Monet, Jono, and Everett. Though Jono and Everett appeared to be somewhat remorseful, Monet glared back at Sean and crossed her arms defiantly.

"Sorry about that," Everett apologized to Michael. "I guess you heard everything."

"Yes. And if you don't want to help then I'll figure out how to do this on my own."

Sean slammed his hand on the table, causing the glasses and condiments to rattle. "Lads, let's set th' attitudes aside. There's no time t' be bickerin' amongst one another. Th' Professor has asked us t' help, and that's what we're goin' t' do. If there's a problem with that, we'll take it up back at th' school. Understood?"

Quiet affirmatives were voiced by Jono and Everett, but Monet simply averted her eyes from Sean and Michael. Sean noticed and figured that he and Emma could talk to her later about her hostile attitude.

Sean then locked eyes with Michael. "And that goes for you too, lad. Ah know that yuir in a bad position, but if what ye say is true, we're in th' middle of it too. Now, Ah need ye t' tell us what's goin' on."

Though slightly annoyed, Michael sighed and neutrally replied, "I'll start from the beginning. Three weeks after my tenth birthday, a Tuesday, at about two thirty-eight, my telekinetic powers surfaced, and I practically destroyed my bedroom. I was unconscious for six days after that. When I woke up, I found myself in a hospital room in a secluded part of a medical wing with nothing in it but my bed. I later found out that while I was out, I created devastating, random telekinetic acts, violently destroying anything not nailed down."

_He has a dual-psionic ability_, Sean made a mental note to inform Hank, as there were only a limited number of mutants that actually had both powers of the mind.

"When I finally awoke, Dr. Cain was there at my bedside. I later found out that he was a geneticist for the Arminthorpe Corporation, and he had taken a special interest in me because I was a mutant. He found six others like me with their own abilities, and began a project to study our development and the biological changes our bodies went through, also monitoring how our abnormal mutant genes matured. He also put us through trials that helped us to understand and develop our powers, often times recording the data for his project. This went on for several years, each one of us honing our powers to a significant level. That's when things started to get strange."

Sean asked, "Strange? How?"

"I can't pinpoint exactly what it was, but Dr. Cain seemed to become more mistrustful of the Corporation and let his sentiments slip every now and then. A few weeks later, he abruptly halted the project then sent us home. We all suspected something was going on, but I decided to investigate on my own. My dad owns an apartment out here, which he uses for business, so I just moved in there and tried to figure out what was going on for the past year but to no avail. But now, you tell me that he's vanished, and now we've been attacked by the Corporation."

Michael sat forward, making eye contact with everyone at the table. "Dr. Cain helped me through one of the most traumatic and difficult parts of my life. All of us here at this table probably have similar stories, I don't doubt that. And just like me, you'll do anything for the people that helped you through. My resolve is the same, and I will find him, no matter what."

Sean looked thoughtful. "Ah believe yuir mentor was keepin' an eye on ye from afar an' knew that ye would be as resolute as ye are. He also seemed t' think ye would know what t' do next."

"If they were after me, chances are the others have been targeted too. I've got to warn them. They've got to go someplace safe until we figure out who in Arminthorpe is behind this and what happened to Dr. Cain."

Sean sat back for a second, rubbing his goatee. "Here's what Ah'm going t' offer ye an' yuir companions—admittance t' Xavier's for safety purposes. We'll help ye find yuir friends an' Dr. Cain on th' condition that ye are honest an' trust us."

Michael frowned. "We were with the Corporation for years, Mr. Cassidy. We should have been able to trust them. But now, they're hunting us. I've barely known you all twenty minutes—how am I supposed to trust you?"

"Because, despite what ye may think, ye can't do this on yuir own. And right now, we're th' best chance ye have o' findin' Dr. Cain. If anythin', ye can stay under th' protection o' Xavier's until things die down a wee bit."

Michael sat back against his chair. "Honestly, I don't feel right dragging you all into our situation. But you're right, I can't take them on alone. I don't even know where to begin…" He sighed, feeling the pressure of a monumental decision on his shoulders. "If I go with you, what do I owe you? Help like this doesn't come for free."

Sean shook his head. "Are ye daft? We'll be takin' no kind o' payment from ye. We're here t' help, and that's what we're going to do. Deal?" Sean stuck his hand out.

Hesitating for only a moment, Michael took Sean's hand and gave him a firm handshake. "Deal."

Despite the looks of curiosity from Jono and Everett, the withering glare from Monet almost made Michael regret his decision. He couldn't pinpoint exactly why or how Sean had won him over, but he seemed genuinely concerned and actually wanted to help. Michael wondered if the rest of the students would be as eager to help or if they would react like Monet—cold and standoffish.

Michael hoped that he was making the right choice. Not just for his sake, but for the safety of his friends and Dr. Cain as well. But for now, all he could do is wait to see what the future held.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional.

The situation on the news that Michael and Jude are watching occurs in Generation X #46.

Jude's brother was one of the teens that attempted to egg the school in Generation X #22.

Jubilee and Angelo were watching the same news report as Michael and Jude.

As of right now, Jubilee is the youngest member of Generation X. She is 15.


	3. Wings of an Angel

I.

_Where the hell am I?_

It took a moment for Michael Lawson to realize that he had somehow fallen asleep on the couch. Yawning and stretching, he swung his legs over the side and noticed that a storm had developed while he was sleep, pounding the roof and windows with hard rain. Dark clouds blotted out any kind of light, casting the house in an eerie gray darkness.

_Where is everyone? Why am I alone?_

He took a deep breath, remembering that his parents were gone to his younger brother's piano recital, so they all would be home late, leaving him alone for about two hours. Taking advantage of the peace and quiet, Michael got in a quick nap, exhausted after school and track practice. The nap was refreshing, and he felt ready to tackle the few pages of homework he had.

Grabbing his literature book from his backpack, a worksheet of questions, a pencil and his notebook, he turned on the lamp next to the couch and dove into the latest story. Though everything seemed normal, he felt that something was out of place. And he had a nagging feeling that he was being watched…

Michael focused on his neatly written notes, easily recalling important points, events, and dates in the story. He felt comfortable with the material, and the confidence that he would do well began to build. Surely, after this test, he would have secured an A in the class, which his parents undoubtedly expected.

A clap of thunder shook the house and the lights flashed, making him nearly jump out of his seat. The rumbling continued through the sky then died away as Michael's heartbeat returned to normal.

Until he spied movement at the end of the shadowy hallway.

_What was that? Is someone there? Did someone break in? Did I imagine it? What if…?_

There was another shift in the shadows, an almost unrealistic bending of the faint light. Michael put his notebook to the side and stood, trying to psychically scan the house for another presence. He didn't feel another psyche there, but there was an inkling of something that set alarms off in his head.

"Is someone there?" he asked, then immediately chastised himself. He had watched more than enough horror movies to know not to ask such a stupid question—something was always there. And this time was no different.

"Michael," a low, gravelly voice called, resembling the rolls of thunder outside.

Without being able to accurately pinpoint where the intruder was, he couldn't touch it with his telekinesis. Taking a careful step forward, he squinted in an attempt to peer into the shadows. "Who's there?" he reflexively asked, realizing that he was becoming the next victim in his own personal horror movie. But he quickly chastised himself with a reminder that there was no such thing as monsters.

From nowhere, a monster faded into existence.

The beady crimson eyes gazed at him with an unhealthy interest, as the creature took an aggressive step towards him. The drawn, decayed skin folded across its forehead, while it seemed stretched too thinly across its hands, exposing muscle and veins. Instead of hair, spiked claws erupted from its head and angled backwards in an unstructured manner. Where Michael expected to see a mouth full of rows of teeth, a breathing piece covered it, extending down and disappearing into the tattled, drab rags that served as clothing for it.

Michael sucked in a breath, his mind going in a thousand directions at once. As he questioned his own sanity, he could feel the adrenaline pumping through his body, but the confusion was overwhelming, and he had trouble focusing.

In an act of desperation, he telekinetically lifted the coffee table and hurled it at the creature. Impossibly, the coffee table flew right through the creature, smashing against the opposite wall. Michael swore that it had somehow faded out of existence, but not completely out of sight then solidified.

Then, it was upon him.

It wasn't until that moment that he noticed the two mouths, opening and closing perversely in the creature's palms. As everything around him began to fade into darkness, a hideous laugh resounded as the creature lowered the mouthed hands onto his chest.

_God, no!_

Michael jerked himself from his nightmare, sitting up with a start. Catching his breath, he touched his chest, still feeling the unsavory touch of the creature from his nightmare.

Pushing the images from his mind, he glanced at his watch. "Six thirty in the morning?" he looked toward the window and caught the first rays of sunlight peeking through the curtains.

_Where am I?_ Michael was disoriented and confused. This wasn't his apartment in Snow Valley. _Xavier's. That's right—I'm at Xavier's._

He remembered he was approached by Sean Cassidy, the headmaster of the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, along with three of his students. They had been contacted by Michael's mentor, Dr. Niles Cain, who seemed to think Michael was in danger. And he was right.

Michael and the others were attacked but managed to fend off the strange enemies. It was soon after that Michael agreed to join the school until they found the rest of his friends and figured out what happened to Dr. Cain.

They had collected most of his personal belongings yesterday evening, and Everett had helped him get settled into his third floor room while giving him a verbal tour of the grounds. Michael hadn't seen the other students, but so much had already happened that he really didn't care about meeting them. He lay down, meaning to only take a short nap, but now found it to be the next morning.

Slightly groggy, Michael prepared himself for the day, taking care of all his personal hygiene before venturing downstairs. He really hadn't noticed last night, but the inside of the school was magnificent, from the decorations throughout the hallways, to the expensive oak furniture, to the Persian rugs, to the expensive décor—it seemed that no expense was spared when constructing, furnishing, and decorating this place.

He wandered aimlessly through the living room until he happened upon Everett and a blonde-haired girl setting three places at the table.

"Morning!" Everett smiled. The awkwardness from yesterday seemed to be completely forgotten.

The blonde said, "Oh, you must be the new student. I'm Paige Guthrie."

"Nice to meet you," Michael responded, detecting a hint of a Southern accent. "I'm Michael Lawson. I figured Monet had already smeared my name in the mud with the students here."

"Well, she did. But it's Monet. I like to give people the benefit of the doubt," Paige said.

Everett had gone and returned from the kitchen with bowls of food, filling the dining room with a delicious aroma. "I made some extra breakfast for you. I'm not sure if you're an early riser or not, but considering you crashed so early last night, I figured you would be up by now."

Michael gratefully smiled, as he eyed the steaming food. "You didn't have to, but thanks. I'm actually starving. Maybe you guys could tell me how things work around here."

Once they were seated with orange juice, eggs, toast, O'Brien potatoes, and turkey bacon in front of them, Michael ate and listened as Paige described the academics, teachers, and something called the Danger Room, which he recalled Jono mentioning the day before. Everett would add in information wherever needed, giving Michael a well-rounded picture of the school.

Compared to what Michael presumed the rest of the student body was like, he was impressed with Paige and had completely changed his mind about Everett. She was hospitable and kind; passionate and energetic when she spoke about the school, which told Michael she really believed in what the school was about. Everett presented himself like the student body president—confident, well-spoken, and grounded. Michael felt that he also supported the causes of the school, which led him to wonder exactly what that cause was.

"We're here to give kids like us a chance to learn and grow, without worrying about the prejudices of being a mutant," Everett clarified. "We also work together with our parent school in Westchester County…"

A realization hit Michael. "That's right. The Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. I've heard of it before, but I didn't realize the student bodies interacted with each other."

"A lot of them are our teachers," Paige explained, shooting a fleeting glance toward Everett.

Michael resisted the urge to read their minds. Instead, he asked, "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"We'll let Ms. Frost and Mr. Cassidy tell you more. I'm pretty sure we'll be seeing them sometime today," Everett evaded directly answering, which made Michael a little uneasy, but he kept his apprehension hidden.

Though curiosity was already getting the better of him, Michael decided that he would simply wait for further explanation from the headmasters. He caught a glimpse of another student groggily shuffling by, covering a huge yawn. He half-heartedly waved at the trio before rounding the corner into the kitchen.

"Not really a morning person, is he?" Michael commented.

"That's Angelo. And no, he's definitely not a morning person," Paige grinned as she answered. A clatter of dishes and cabinets came from the kitchen, and though Michael was a little alarmed, Paige and Everett didn't seem worried.

"So," Paige began, "What do you think of the environmental issue we're facing today?"

Michael gulped his food, surprised at the broad, heavy question she suddenly laid on him. He collected his thoughts then answered, "Right now, the issue seemed to be a two-sided argument, because—"

"Piece of advice, Mikey," Jubilee bounded around the corner with a concerned expression directed at Michael. "Don't let Paige like totally suck you into one of her _issue_ convos. You'll be sittin' there all day debatin' with her."

Paige peered at Jubilee over glasses, attempting to give an intimidating stare, which only made Jubilee laugh. "Jubilee, when have I ever—"

Jubilee picked up her stride again and replied as she walked away, "Wait 'til I get some grub, Hayseed!" Still clad in a long pink t-shirt and bunny house shoes, she followed the same path as Angelo and disappeared into the kitchen.

"That's Jubilee—or Ms. Don't-call-me-Jubilation Lee," Paige informed Michael.

"I heard that, Paige!" Jubilee shouted from the kitchen, which elicited a playful giggle from Paige. But it was only a few moments later that the levity was shattered by a shrill cry from the kitchen.

"Stay away from me!" Jubilee excitedly screamed.

All three leaped out of their chairs and rounded the corner to see Jubilee, protecting a box of cereal in her right hand while her left hand was extended toward Angelo. He stood opposite her, an annoyed look etched into his features.

"You can't hog the cereal, chica!"

"After that stunt you pulled yesterday, you don't get to eat the last of the Sugar Bombs! I can't like believe you were jus' gonna totally tear through 'em without tellin' me. For that, ya get nothin'!"

"Early bird gets the worm, right? You overslept. Tough," Angelo responded.

"Is this a serious argument?" Michael whispered to Everett and Paige.

"Yes," Everett and Paige simultaneously and flatly replied.

Seeing an opening, Angelo extended his hand, stretching his skin in an attempt to grab the cereal. Jubilee dodged gracefully, causing Angelo to just miss the box.

"Slick move, but not good enough!"

"Should we help her?" Michael asked, unsure of whose side to take.

Paige shook her head. "Nope. These two are always at it. Just let them be."

"This might be fun to watch though," Everett joked.

Angelo let tendrils of skin extend from his body, all aimed for the cereal.

"That's almost as gross as Paige leavin' her skin everywhere," Jubilee shot as she leaped in the air with a split, flipped in mid-air, and landed near the other entrance to the kitchen. "Give it up, creepo! The cereal's mine. Next time, like think twice about raidin' my room."

Jubilee grinned haughtily at Angelo, until she felt the box of cereal snatched from her grasp. Surprised, she first looked at her empty hand then behind her and spotted Penance with the box of cereal, already opening it and eying the contents curiously.

"Penny—don't you dare," Jubilee warned, but it was too late. Penance poured some of the cereal into her mouth, delightfully munching the sugar-coated corn puffs. Jubilee took a step toward her, but the girl moved much too quickly, taking the box with her as she scurried down the hallway.

"You're not going to catch her, Jubes," Everett laughed.

"She's a student here too?" Michael asked, bewildered and surprised at the girl's appearance. Instantly, his mind went back to the nightmare, and the awful creature with the spiked hair. That girl resembled Michael's attacker much too closely to be a coincidence.

Though her skin appeared to be hard, and instead of hands and feet, she had long, dangerous claws, her hair wasn't hair—it was long spikes of red, exactly like the creature. Her body was wrapped in what looked like leather restraints from her neck to her ankles, giving her an edgy, almost wicked appearance.

"Yeah, but she's still kind of shy. She doesn't talk, and we really still don't know too much about her," Jubilee explained as she plopped down at the table in the kitchen. A small ensemble for two, Sean and Emma usually drank coffee there while the students ate at the large dining room table.

Before Michael could inquire about Penance more, a girl with outrageous pink hair bounded into the dining room, roughly bypassing Michael, Paige, and Everett.

"I must eat light before dance practice," she said as the bread opened, two pieces floated out into the toaster and a glass floated into her hand. She had been taking dance classes with Stevie Hunter for a week now, and she found the utmost of enjoyment spinning and gracefully bounding across the dance floor. Saturday classes were the best since they didn't interrupt school or Danger Room sessions. "Why are so many people simply standing in the kitchen this morning?" Gaia turned to Everett then spotted Michael. "Oh! You must be the guy that lashed out at Monet and Jono yesterday. I'm sure Monet despises you."

"No surprise there. Thanks for clearing that up for me," he flatly replied.

Gaia smiled as if she had just done a good deed for the day. "You're welcome. I'm here to help."

Everett nudged Michael as he said, "That's Gaia. Umm…she was the Guardian of the Universal Amalgamator."

"Is that some new job in California?" Michael asked, unsure if Everett was being serious or not.

"She's still learning the ways of the world, so she may come off a little blunt and off sometimes," Paige added.

"A little?" Michael cocked an eyebrow. He wasn't sure exactly what they meant by leaning the ways of the world, but he figured Gaia grew up sheltered and in a small town in some rural part of a state people easily forget.

Jubilee's expression changed from heartbroken to that of a pleading child, falling on the mercies of a soft parent. "Hey, since you're like heading into town, can you grab some Sugar Bombs from the store?"

Gaia began to say something but then saw Jubilee's expression. Her large brown eyes and sincere gaze made Gaia feel…well…strange. "I don't know why I feel I should agree, but I should be able to get some on the way back. Will fifty boxes be enough?"

Jubilee's grin spread wide as she nodded her head in greedy agreement.

Paige shook her head, amazed by the nonsense she was witnessing. "Gaia, hun, you have to learn about quantity. We only need two boxes at the most. Besides, those things are loaded with high fructose corn syrup, sugar, and everything else that we shouldn't be putting into our bodies."

"These Sugar Bombs are dangerous?" Gaia gasped, genuinely surprised.

"It's one extreme or the other with you, isn't it, chica?" Angelo mumbled.

"Never mind," Paige shook her head, throwing her hands up in abandonment as she turned away and headed back out into the dining room.

Gaia thoughtfully said, "These Sugar Bombs…I shall decide on my trip whether they are safe enough to enter our home. I'll see all of you later!" She telekinetically floated the car keys into her hand then she was out the front door.

Michael actually smiled. Though they were all vastly different, they all got along like a big family. There weren't any weird cliques or anything like that—they were just comfortable with each other. Just like Michael's friends at the Corporation.

It had been awhile since he had talked to them, wanting to avoid probing questions about what he was doing in Snow Valley. They all thought he was living back at home with his parents, like all of them had done. If they knew he was out here by himself, they probably all would have found some way to join him.

But now, there was no choice. The Corporation was after them. And Michael was sure that whatever they had in store once they were captured wasn't good.

Without warning, everyone heard a voice coming from inside their heads at once. _"I love to awaken to the sound of Jubilation screaming at the top of her lungs. Since all of you seem to be so lively and rambunctious, we'll meet in the living room in ten minutes. We have a mission. Do not be late." _

Michael couldn't believe it. "Who—who was that? Did you all hear that?" He waited to see if there was a reaction from the others, but they continued on as if nothing significant had happened.

Jubilee shrugged. "She copied it from the Prof…a telepathic summon-thingy. She does it _all_ the time. But that's Ol' Frosty for ya."

"That was Ms. Frost, the other headmaster," Everett clarified, sensing Michael's confusion. "She runs the school alongside Mr. Cassidy. Whatever she needs to talk to us about sounds important. It's probably in regards to your situation. "

"I just hope that we're going to find Dr. Cain, and make sure everyone else is okay."

"Dude, you worry way too much. We'll totally find your doctor and friends in a jiffy," Jubilee reassured Michael.

"I hope you're right," Michael replied. He trailed behind Everett, Angelo, and Jubilee as they filed out to the living room.

II.

For the tenth time that day, Graylon Walsh hung up his phone, irritated and worried that Niles Cain hadn't answered his phone. It was only yesterday that Graylon had called and actually left a message for him. But thinking back, it had been about a week since he had last spoken to him. And, given the circumstances, meant that something was probably wrong.

Sighing heavily, Graylon thought about simply going to his house and barging in, but if everything was as dangerous as Niles had made it sound, Graylon could only be putting himself in harm's way. But what else could he do?

Pushing his empty breakfast plate to the side, he ran his fingers through his shaggy, dark blond hair then scrolled through his iPhone for any messages. The last one was from his boss, commending him on his story about Xavier's. Smiling, Graylon placed his phone back in its hip holster and gulped down the last of his orange juice.

His mind quickly went back to the Arminthorpe Corporation. Graylon knew that there was something he should be doing, but at this point, he didn't know what. And if something had happened to Niles, his interference would only make things worse. But he knew Niles all too well, and if something had happened to him, Niles had already created some kind of failsafe to ensure either his rescue or the safety of the mysterious members of his project that he referred to.

Though not familiar with the professional associates of Niles, he knew that one of members of the project, Michael Lawson, was living in Snow Valley. He was aware of the young man's presence, but under explicit instructions from Niles, Graylon left Michael alone. Given the current situation, he couldn't hold fast to that anymore. If anyone knew what could be going on, it would be him.

Resolving himself, Graylon put his dishes in the sink and within the next five minutes he dressed and out the door, on his way to Michael Lawson's apartment. He only hoped that whatever had happened to Niles hadn't happened to Michael too.

III.

Exactly ten minutes later, the older student body of Xavier's was seated in various places around the living room, listening to Michael retell his story of Dr. Cain and a brief overview of the project they were involved in. After finishing, Michael added, "I tried to call Dr. Cain last night when I first got here, but there was no answer. Maybe we should just go to his house."

"If yuir Corporation is after ye, that's the next place they expect ye t' go. Right now, the priority is to get to the rest o' yuir peers, and get them to safety. If yuir Doctor is smart, he's probably in hidin'."

"Or he's been taken by the Corporation," Michael sourly added, feeling that there should be more that he was doing. For all the powers he possessed, right now, he felt helpless and clueless. Dr. Cain had taken care of them immensely while they were at the Corporation, and Michael felt that this was his chance to return the favor, but so far, he was failing miserably.

And on top of that, he hadn't even thought about his summer class or his job at the security office. How was he going to explain to Chief Authier, Tracy, and Jude that he was enrolled at Xavier's, the huge mutant boarding house on the edge of town?

Michael's stomach knotted at the thoughts running through his head.

"For now, Mr. Lawson, our first priority will be to secure the safety of Cain's various charges. If you're done interrupting with your doomsayer interjections, I'll finish what I was saying."

Michael felt his cheeks burn hot, overly embarrassed, but said nothing in reply.

"Now, I've compiled information on all of the members of Cain's project—"

Surprised, Michael asked, "How did you get that? I thought that the Corporation's files and computer systems were under heavy security."

_"We have a state-of-the-art alien computer in the basement,"_ Jono answered matter-of-factly.

"You people have a bad habit of being way too casual," Michael snapped, fed up with people giving him curt replies.

Paige explained, "No, he's serious."

"I don't understand. I thought this place was a private school for rich kids. You've supposedly got alien computers, people from other universes, and a Danger Room—what is this place?"

Emma frowned. "This is the last question I'm going to entertain. This is a school, and so much more, Mr. Lawson. Though we're removing ourselves from the superhero business, we have the capability of deploying in support of the X-Men, or the students at the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning."

Michael held up a hand to stop the conversation. "Whoa. You're saying that these schools are a cover for superhero teams?"

"Well, we're focusing more on academics and learning to control our abilities than running around the planet saving the world fifty times over. The X-Men are fully capable of that without our help."

"But we tend t' get our fair share o' uninvited guests," Sean added.

"Which is why our Danger Room sessions are vastly important and will continue. In this day and age, as a mutant, we must be able to defend ourselves and the populace from those that have less-than-honorable intentions for us or this school. As a student of this school, you'll be under the same rules and rigor as the rest of the student body."

"Welcome to Generation X, dude," Angelo grinned.

Continuing to lay out the plan, Emma said, "Sean and I will be accompanying you on this trip, so I'm going to split you into two teams." Emma looked from student to student, deciding how to split them up properly. "Sean will go with Monet, Michael, Jono, and Everett. I will go with Jubilee, Paige, and Angelo," Emma heard a groan from Jubilee but decided to ignore it. "Tom will remain with the younger students. I expect us all to be on the road in thirty minutes. I already have two BMW X5s out front for our transportation. I expect this to be a day long trip, so no packing required. Monet."

Monet rolled her eyes. "Ms. Frost, it is necessary and imperative that at least ten variant styles of apparel are easily and readily accessible throughout the day."

"You of all students know that I feel your pain, Monet. But we'll be returning with hopefully more than we left with, so we can't spare the room."

Jubilee saw an opening and she took it. "Like what a total shame, M. You'll just have to like leave your entire wardrobe behind. Bummer, huh?"

"If you experience the obligation to persist in badgering me, then I will abscond myself from your presence, Lee," Monet replied, an air of superiority laced throughout every word.

"English, M. English."

"I refuse to participate in your childish antics today. Find some other way to amuse yourself. Maybe a chew toy," Monet flipped her long, jet black hair in a dismissive manner then kept her eyes glued to Emma.

Emma sighed. "It's simple, kids. I need your undivided attention. Uninterrupted. Now, let's try to have an attention span three times as long as a two-year old. Any questions so far?"

Paige asked, "Do we know anything about who's after them? What kind of danger is it?"

"We were attacked yesterday by these strange shadowy figures. A lot of them," Everett answered.

"Be prepared to protect yourselves, but we don't need a spectacular show like yesterday. The news tends to gravitate to our whereabouts, so we'll all have to be especially careful."

"That means no like flyin' around tryin' to be all cool, Monet," Jubilee clarified.

"I have no compunctions to hide my magnificent powers. I'm practically perfect in every way. But for the sake of our clandestine mission, I shall align myself with the request. But Lee, that also means that you cannot entertain yourself with the miniscule sparkles you so love to shoot off."

_"You gels are awfully catty today,"_ Jono mentioned.

"And that's why I split the two of you," Emma said. "Neither one of us would be able to deal with your bickering. And it would be a bad impression for the students."

"Anyways, this sounds like fun! Like when I was with the X-Men, we used to totally do this sort of thing all the time." Jubilee had a huge smile of anticipation on her face. She blew a bubble with her gum and popped it in one motion.

"Is it always this exciting here?" Michael asked.

"You haven't seen a fraction of the action that goes on here," Jubilee winked.

"We really haven't been out like this in a while," Paige commented. "I still think it's kind of sudden, but if Professor Xavier thought we could do it—"

"Hey, stop worrying. I'm not up for all this X-Men stuff, but if it means getting out of here for some action, I'm all for it," Angelo responded to Paige.

Everett looked concerned. "I agree with Paige, but we've been doing well in the new Danger Room, so we shouldn't have too much trouble."

"My team will be leaving in ten minutes. I suggest eating if you haven't done so already," Emma finished. She hoped that their trip would be uneventful, but she didn't have to be a psychic to know that things wouldn't go as smoothly as planned.

And she was right.

IV.

Upstairs, Monet selected a pair of light khaki shorts, showing off her long, toned legs. A body accentuating, sleeveless, pale green top went nicely with Monet's bronze complexion. Strap-up open-toed heels, Versace glasses and belt, small hoop earrings, and bangles finished off the ensemble.

Giving herself a glance of approval in the mirror, Monet left her room, but instead of heading toward the stairs, she headed farther down the hallway. Stopping near the end, she knocked lightly on the last door on the left then cracked it open.

"Morning, Monet!" a cheerful greeting came from Nicole. As usual, Claudette was right at her side, smiling at Monet, though her gaze seemed to go right through her. The younger, twin versions of Monet were dressed in rolled up jeans, matching t-shirts, and tennis shoes. "We're getting ready to head down for breakfast."

"I think Mr. Corsi is in there now making all of you a nice breakfast. I believe I smelled blueberry pancakes."

A big grin spread across Nicole's face. "That's our favorite. I think Artie and Leech like them too. But if not, that's just more for us!" She laughed at her own joke, a pleasant, childish giggle that made Monet smile.

Her sisters had been through a lot already, having merged to masquerade as Monet to cover up the fact that their brother, Emplate, had kidnapped her. But the ruse only held up so long, and they couldn't maintain the merger after being seriously injured and were separated. Realizing that Monet was mystically trapped within Penance, the young mutant Emplate had used to sustain his life, they merged again and then replaced Monet, imprisoning themselves. It wasn't until a surprise explosion at Proudstar Hall, courtesy of Emplate, separated the three of them, leaving all three unharmed.

Since then, the twins comfortably joined the school, mostly watched after by Tom Corsi, along with the other younger students, Artie and Leech, two young boys. And Penance, or Yvette, seemed to have no problem fitting in once again, though she was still a mystery to most. But her mutation was due to the trauma of being imprisoned by Emplate, and Monet still couldn't figure how to draw the girl out of her shell. Literally.

"Is everyone heading out? Is something wrong?"

Monet gave them a reassuring smile. "We are leaving, but we shall be back sometime later on today. There are some people that could be in serious danger, and the Professor has apparently asked that we find them and bring them back here."

"Hear that, Claudette? That means more friends for us." Nicole's expression suddenly changed, "Monet, Claudette and I want you to be careful. She thinks that there's something dangerous looming out there."

Monet didn't like the sound of that. Everything had been so quietly lately that she had gotten used to simply doing the summer things that normal teens do—go to the pool, shop, and, sometimes reluctantly, hang out with her acquaintances. But Michael's appearance and the sudden need to rescue the others gave Monet a bad feeling as well.

To her sisters, she said, "Don't worry. I shall be fine, and so will everyone else. You two shouldn't worry about me. That's my job." Heading toward the door, Monet finished, "Don't give Tom too hard of a time. Just a little though."

Nicole held up her hand, making a _just a little_ sign with her hand and smiled.

"And tell Yvette I said bye as well." With that, Monet shut the door, her sister's warning clearly at the forefront of her mind. She only hoped that for a change, Claudette was wrong and everything would be fine. But her sister was never wrong, and that's what secretly worried Monet.

"Monet, hurry up! Emma said no packing!" Everett called up using a bit of Sean's power to amplify his voice.

_"You can't rush perfection, Everett. I'll be down in just a moment,"_ she telepathically communicated to him. Giving her sisters' room one more glance, Monet hurried downstairs and within the next few minutes, they were on the road. Only minutes after that, Emma and her team were on the road as well, both teams anticipating what they would be faced with in the next few hours.

IV.

Tom Corsi smiled as the younger students sat around the table chatting, enjoying their breakfast of blueberry pancakes, fresh fruit, and orange juice. It had been quite sometime since he had made breakfast, since most of the older students seemed to always be on the run. Every once in a while, Tom liked to take over the kitchen and prepare a big meal that everyone would rave about afterwards. But lately, he hadn't exactly had that chance.

Even during the summer, Tom ran the self-defense classes and the Danger Room sessions, which the students all had to do at least once a week. Some of them, like Jubilee, actually came in everyday as a part of her workout for a danger room session. He liked their enthusiasm, and it's what kept him going.

Since the others had taken off and the kids were eating, Tom decided to check the outer facilities to ensure they were locked then he would activate the security alarms. The last thing he wanted was unexpected trouble while everyone was away. Telling them he would be right back, Tom headed out to Proudstar Hall.

Proudstar Hall stood on the north side of the school. Built in honor of John Proudstar, it served as a constant reminder that the fight for equality between mutants and humans was not without a price. Though it symbolized a serious commitment, Proudstar Hall actually served as an auditorium and a party location for the students. It also served as a prime target for some of their adversaries, most recently Emplate.

Tom did a perimeter walk around the building, surprised at the heat so early in the morning. He then entered the hall, did a full check of the rooms, then exited, locking the doors behind him. Satisfied, Tom headed back toward the mansion, but stopped suddenly when he heard a _thud_ behind him.

Spinning around, he found a blond girl, lying on the ground. At first Paige came to mind, but the blond hair was much too golden and seemed to sparkle in the sunlight. He rushed over and turned the girl over, checking her pulse and breathing immediately. Small beads of sweat poured off her forehead as her eyes fluttered back open.

"Wh—where am I?" she weakly asked.

Tom lifted the young girl in his arms and carried her toward the school. "Save your strength. I think you're just overheated. We'll get you into a cooler place." He entered the school, thankful for the blast of cool air, then laid the girl on the couch. "Nicole, can you grab me a small cup of tap water?"

Within seconds, Nicole was at his side with a glass of tap water. "Who is she?"

Tom took the water and handed it to the girl. She drank slowly and carefully, taking deep breaths as she did. By this time, Artie, Leech, Claudette, and even Yvette were curiously drawing near, concerned and a little frightened.

"I—I'm sorry," she shyly apologized. "I was—I think I just got lost."

Tom tried to be reassuring, but given the most recent of events, as bad feeling began to brew. "This is pretty far from the city to get lost. Where are your parents?"

"I came out here alone. I'm Lily Madison."

"Lily Madison?" Tom repeated, the name sounding awfully familiar. Then he realized where he had heard it. "You were involved with Dr. Cain, weren't you?"

She nodded, a flash of fear in her eyes.

"Don't worry. I'm Tom Corsi. A friend of yours, Michael Lawson, is here. And actually, we were looking for you and your friends."

She sighed gratefully, strength suddenly returning to her. "Thank goodness. I was so worried. I thought that something was wrong. That's why I left so suddenly. But when I got here, I think I just got lost."

"I don't understand how you ended up here," Tom said, still trying to piece the situation together. It still didn't make sense to him that the girl would have even stumbled upon the school, since it was on the far outskirts of the town. But then again, the security alarms were off, so she could have easily gotten onto the grounds. Something was missing though.

"Hey, do you want some ice cream? Maybe we could head out into the city for some," Nicole said, trying to make the girl feel comfortable.

"Leech no like ice cream," he frowned and crossed his arms. Artie agreed by creating a holographic image of ice cream with a large red X over it.

"Oh!" Lily said, suddenly noticing her audience. Artie, Leech, and Yvette grabbed her attention due to their unique appearance. She sat up quickly, alarmed. "What's going on here? Who are you?"

Tom placed a reassuring hand on her delicate shoulder. "Don't worry. They're not going to hurt you."

"I—I was just surprised. I haven't seen anyone like that before."

"Leech and Artie two of a kind!" Leech smiled at Lily. Artie created a three-dimensional smiley face in mid-air, which elicited a kind smile in return from her.

At first surprised and frightened, Lily now felt a little more steady and secure around these people. She didn't know why she felt comfortable, but something deep within told her these were the good guys. "And yes, I do like ice cream," she replied to Nicole.

"Great! Claudette and I are ready to go, Mr. Corsi."

Tom laughed. "Hold on there. Lily, I don't want to rush back out there until I know that you're okay. Were you being followed?"

She shook her head. "I don't think so. But I can't say for certain."

Tom understood the reasoning behind Nicole's suggestion. Getting the girl to a comfortable public place would probably ease her apprehension a little bit and could help jog her memory in case there was something they needed to know.

"Well, if everyone's finished their breakfast, we'll take Lily out. Leech and Artie, I'm trusting you guys not to get into any trouble. We'll be back in about thirty minutes, okay?"

"Leech understand."

"And maybe on the way, you can tell me a little more about how you got here and where your parents are."

Lily's eyes dropped, and she nodded but said nothing. Tom patted her shoulder then stood, smiling at Nicole and Claudette who seemed quite ready to go. Taking the keys to the jeep, Tom, Lily, Nicole, and Claudette were on their way to the ice cream parlor, headed straight toward a danger that none of them expected.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional

These events occur after Generation X #46. However, a noted change is that Penance and the twins have already been separated, and Penance is her own entity

Gaia is attending Stevie Hunter's dance class—the same one that Kitty Pryde and Jubilee previously attended

Tom Corsi has already arrived at the school as well. He assisted Forge in building the Danger Room, so he has a lot of technical expertise on it


	4. Hot Pursuit

I.

Paige Guthrie took a deep breath, surprised at the late summer heat. She redirected the outer-most vent, sighing in relief as the cooler air caressed her face. Paige wished now she had worn shorts instead of jeans, but she was thankful for the cool cotton t-shirt.

Glancing out the window, she watched as rolling hills turned into quaint businesses. After a few more turns, the building seamlessly shifted into breathtaking houses that seemed to grow larger as they drove on.

The complete silence in the car was almost as nerve-racking as the arguing between Angelo and Jubilee. They simply could not agree on a radio station—Angelo wanted some heavy rock and alternative, while Jubilee grimaced and demanded pop and Top 40 stations. Paige threw in her request for a little light country, which elicited groans from both of them. Though she didn't express it, Emma would have rather kept listening to the classical music that was on.

After twenty minutes, Emma didn't want to deal with the channel-changing and the incessant bickering, so she simply turned off the radio, sentencing them to silence for the rest of the trip. Stunned, everyone simply sat back in their seat,

She shifted in the passenger seat then broke the heavy silence that had permeated the car for the past hour. "Ms. Frost, who are we going to see?"

Smoothly, Emma reached into her white portfolio and handed Paige a manila folder from it. "His name is Vincent Sellenger. Apparently, he's an adept pyrokinetic with an attitude to match."

Paige glanced through the folder as Emma spoke, noting the photograph inside. Even in the picture, the guy seemed to have an expression of anger cemented into his face. If he wouldn't look so mean, she could have found him somewhat attractive. A defined jaw-line, piercing blue eyes, and fire-red hair with a fair complexion somehow came together nicely but was completely thrown off with his scowl.

"Geez…another kid with a 'tude? Monet's like totally enough for me," Jubilee commented as she leaned over Paige's shoulder. She caught a glimpse of the photo and commented, "Wow. He's kinda cute."

"Not my type though," Paige absently replied.

"I didn't know you were lookin', Hayseed. Jono like not makin' the cut?" Jubilee grinned slyly.

Paige felt her cheeks flush, and the air suddenly became thick. "Jubilee! Jono and I are just fine!" She closed the folder quickly shoving it in Angelo's direction. "I was only trying to get some info on this guy. Nothing more."

"Right," Jubilee drew it out with a tone of disbelief. She wanted to say more, but at the same time, she knew that Angelo and Jono were friends, so she didn't want to risk getting trouble started. But she made a mental note to talk to Paige about it later.

Angelo groaned, "Oy! No girl talk in here. I don't know how I got stuck with both of you. I should've switched spots with Monet. Then you could've had all the girl talk you wanted."

"When we get inside," Emma sternly interjected, "I'm trusting that you all will act as though you're my students and not like a rag-tag bunch of hooligans I picked up off the street."

"Hooligans?" Jubilee repeated. "Like whoa. We are everything but. Besides, what're you like gettin' so picky for?"

"The Sellengers are a prominent family within the higher circles you children aren't exactly privy to yet. They're heavy investors in many of the corporations that directly support Frost International."

"Are they like Hellfire Club cronies too?" Jubilee shot.

"No, Jubilation," Emma said, purposefully using the girl's full name, which she knew Jubilee hated. "Those days are long gone, though I still have my connections purely for the sake of emergencies. Now, if you kids are done badgering each other and me, we're getting close."

Emma pulled the BMW X5 into the cobblestone, circular driveway, pulling to an easy stop in front of a towering mansion. The three-story, grand Victorian-style structure was eloquently sprawled over an expanse of well-kept grounds. Painted a light earth tone, it contrasted magnificently against the darker shades of roof and greens surrounding it.

"Looks like we've got another rich, totally spoiled brat on our hands," Jubilee pessimistically commented.

Angelo poked Jubilee in the side. "Well, chica, I think you'll have another playmate."

"Ha. Ha," she replied dryly.

Emma strolled up to the door as Paige, Jubilee, and Angelo trailed behind, still awed just by the outside of the mansion. "Children, best behavior and look alive. We want to give the young man and his family a good impression of the school." She pushed the doorbell, and a pleasant chime could be heard behind the heavy oak door. Moments later, hurried footsteps approached then the door swung open, and a young-looking brunette, dressed in business chic, stood in the doorway.

"May I help you?" she asked with more of a perfunctory manner than an actual desire to assist them. Her sharp, dark eyes scanned all of them before she locked eyes with Emma, awaiting her answer.

More out of habit than curiosity, Emma lightly scanned the woman's mind. The most surface facts about the woman came to Emma as if the woman was simply verbally giving Emma the information.

_Amanda Harrison. Personal assistant for Mr. Sellenger. Has much more than a business relationship with him. Martial arts experience. Single. No Kids. Older brother. From California. Dislikes Vincent. _

Emma's lips curled into a smirk. "Ms. Harrison, we're here to see Mr. Sellenger. I know that he's here—I can smell his cologne on you. Now, I suggest you drop the hostility, and let him know Emma Frost is here."

Amanda's face reddened with both embarrassment and anger, as curses danced on the tip of her tongue. But after staring Emma down, she decided that a confrontation at this point wouldn't serve any purpose. And there was something overly ruthless about this woman, which made her think twice about a confrontation.

She simply replied, "Step inside." Opening the door wider, she stepped to the side, allowing the foursome to step into the cooler foyer area. Emma smoothed her Versace vest and slacks, both pristine white, before sauntering past Amanda into the foyer area. Emma gave off an air of superiority as Amanda threw a hateful glance her way, before disappearing into a far doorway.

Paige noticed that her teacher's demeanor as of late had become much more merciless and seemingly cold. The White Queen—Emma was called that for a reason, and she was finally beginning to see why. "Ms. Frost, I can't believe—" Paige began.

"Don't worry, Paige. I'm not serious. But people like this have to be treated a certain way to gain respect."

"So like that's how you do it," Jubilee flatly replied, obviously not really impressed with Emma's explanation. She blew a rather large pink bubble then popped it, sucking the gum back into her mouth.

_"We'll talk about it later,"_ Emma telepathically replied to her three students. At the same time, a dark-haired man headed toward them, he too dressed in business attire. His button down sleeves were rolled halfway up his forearm, and he looked to be slightly fatigued. But he still gave his guest a friendly smile as he neared.

"Is it just me, or does every rich snob totally dress like they're in a soap opera? Including Ol' Frosty." Jubilee whispered to Paige and Angelo. The other two quietly agreed, holding back their snickers.

"I don't have many guests out this way, especially ones that manage to rile up Amanda. But are as beautiful as your words are fierce. Welcome to my home." His greeting was sincere, and as he drew close, Mr. Sellenger took Emma's hand and brought it to his lips, touching it slightly with a kiss. Paige, Angelo, and Jubilee all collectively gasped but quickly quieted their surprise.

"Quite the charming one, aren't you, Mr. Sellenger?" Emma gave an uncharacteristic seductive smile, obviously flirting back with him. "I'm Emma Frost—"

"Of Frost International? Well, this just keeps getting better. Please, call me Paul."

"And these are my students, Paige Guthrie, Jubilation Lee, and Angelo Espinosa."

"Students?"

"As well as owner of Frost International, I'm the headmaster of a private school."

"A softer side of the legendary Emma Frost? You are full of surprises."

"I see a reputation precedes me."

"It should. You're practically a household name amongst the large conglomerate companies. But is this a business-related visit?"

"Actually, no. Is your wife here? I would like to speak to the both of you. Your son as well."

"Please follow me." Paul led them down the lengthy hallway into a large sitting room, with a vaulted ceiling and large paneled windows, which displayed a magnificent view of the city below. The sun poured in, creating a sense of warmth and relaxation. The plush couches and chairs faced each other, and one was currently occupied by a woman.

Eva Sellenger was quite stunning, with her silky strawberry blond hair, fair complexion and lithe frame. She wore a long, sleek dress which outlined her body perfectly, with her long legs tucked underneath her as she slowly turned the pages of a hardcover book. A glass of wine was within reach and soft classical music played in the background.

"Eva, we have guests."

"Oh? I didn't even hear the doorbell ring. I apologize," she stood, smiling graciously. She placed her book on the table and stood. "I'm Eva Sellenger."

Emma shook the woman's hand, and like with Amanda, she did a slight mind scan.

_Eva Sellenger. Unhappily married. Has an affair going with the pool boy. Loves to shop. Loves the rich lifestyle. Hates Amanda. Loves her children._

Emma didn't recall seeing any siblings for Vincent, but she didn't want to dig any deeper. However, she did make a mental note of it. She thought about scanning Paul, but the lascivious glances he kept giving her, made her think twice about it.

She took Eva's hand gently. "Emma Frost. And my students, Paige, Jubilee, and Angelo."

"What is this exactly about?" Eva questioned as she motioned for everyone to sit down.

Before Emma could begin, Amanda appeared with Vincent in tow. Vincent's smooth, fair face was contorted in an angry expression as he seemingly reluctantly followed Amanda into the sitting room. His simple attire of torn jeans and a printed t-shirt contrasted starkly with his parents' dress and the eloquent surroundings. He flopped down in a chair, glaring at Emma, Paige, Angelo, and Jubilee.

Emma began, "Professor Charles Xavier, head of the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning, was contacted by Dr. Cain. The message was brief but urgent, indicating that the people involved with Dr. Cain could be in potential danger. We're here to provide a safe haven for Vincent until we uncover what exactly is going on."

"He's in…danger? But who would—" Paul asked, completely taken aback.

A look of urgency appeared on Vincent's face. "Where's Dr. Cain?"

Emma answered, "We have reason to believe he's either gone into hiding or may have been abducted. We haven't been able to launch a full investigation. Believe me, we're just as surprised as you are, but Professor Xavier personally knows Dr. Cain, and wants to ensure that we get to the bottom of this situation."

Vincent grunted with disapproval in reply. "I don't need some charity school to help me or Dr. Cain."

"Vincent!" Eva exclaimed.

"Son, enough. If something has happened and it involves Vincent and Dr. Cain, I can only guess that the Arminthorpe Corporation is somehow involved as well."

"My first priority is to ensure the safety of his students. We have the means to protect them from whatever threat may be looming while minimizing the potential for innocent victims. If he's a target, it's possible that they'll hurt anyone around him. To include you."

"I knew we shouldn't have gotten involved with that Corporation," Paul regretfully stated, shaking his head. "Emma, I don't know how much you do know, but Vincent has—well, a _problem_."

Emma was instantly reminded of her own parents' reaction to her budding psychic abilities, immediately sending her to a mental institution to be cured of her _problem_. The term made her shutter, and on some level, she could understand Vincent's hostility.

She held up her hand to politely silence him. "Say no more, Paul. My school specializes in children with unique needs. I'm sure that no matter what _problem_ Vincent has, we will be able to appropriately meet his needs.

Eva and Paul gave each other a glance that seemed to be much more than a glance. However, Paul only replied, "I'm a little unsure about this. It's sudden, and it's only recently that Vincent returned home from the Corporation, under the care of Dr. Cain. I trust your school can adequately—"

"I'm not going with them!" Vincent burst out.

"Dude, we're here to help you out. So like cut the 'tude, 'kay?" Jubilee shot.

Vincent darkly smiled. "What are you planning to do with me if I don't?"

"Enough!" Eva snapped. "Vincent, there's no need for your hostility toward our guests."

"Oh," Emma soothed. "I'm used to young, impetuous children with unsavory attitudes. If you don't mind, could I just talk to Vincent alone?"

Again, Paul and Eva looked at each other, but this time, they seemed to be in agreement. They both stood.

"We'll let you decide, son. But do not disrespect Ms. Frost, understood?"

"Whatever."

Eva went by and squeezed his arm before following Paul and Amanda into another room, closing the door behind them.

Emma locked eyes with Vincent. "I don't have time to waste with your bad attitude. You and your cohorts are in danger, and we've probably put ourselves in danger by coming out here. I would rather you simply cut the tough boy act and agree to let us help you."

Vincent's expression softened into one of surprise. The business-like headmistress had a completely different side, and it caught him off-guard. But his anger began to resurface and his brows furrowed.

"There are obviously some things you don't know about me," Vincent said, making flames dance around his outstretched hand.

"That's a cute parlor trick, but mine's better," Paige said as she held up her hand. With a _shrripp_, she pulled the skin off her arm, revealing an organic steel form underneath.

"Okay, that's just gross. Mine's way cooler!" Jubilee held up her hand and small _pafs_ of fireworks exploded.

Angelo grinned. "This is the best of both worlds—cool and gross." Angelo grabbed his skin and pulled it several feet from the bone without flinching.

"We know that you're a mutant, Vincent. We're no strangers to that world ourselves. Now, I'm going to tell you again that you need to come with us," Emma sternly stated. Vincent let the flames dissipate into the air. "What are you planning to do with me if I don't?"

"You adolescent boys and your testosterone," Emma groaned. "Here's what we're going to do—you will battle one of my students. If you win, you can go about your merry way, but if my student wins, you'll tell your parents that you're coming to the school with us. That's not too hard for you to comprehend, is it?"

"Whatever. None of you look that tough. This'll be a breeze."

"We shall see, Vincent," Emma smiled wickedly, an expression reminiscent of the White Queen crossing her face. There was no doubt in her mind that any one of the three of her students could take him without much effort at all. But she wanted to see it for herself. And this was the perfect chance.

And if by some chance they did lose, mind-control was always an option.

Smiling, Emma followed Vincent to the backdoor and into an expansive backyard, perfect for a duel.

II.

The drive to the suburbs of Baltimore went by quickly, in part due to Sean's speeding and luck of not getting pulled over. He let Everett control the GPS, where he input the home address for the person they were supposed to find, Kiana Asahara. The computerized voice kept them on track all the way there, and three hours later, they were at the front of a beautifully designed home.

Set atop a gradual incline, the secluded Azuchi-Momoyama period house, complete with a thatched roof, was set back amidst a span of trees and flora. They walked underneath a deep red _torii_ into a sprawling courtyard, the main house visible just ahead.

"This is the first time I've actually seen Kiana's house. It's amazing," Michael commented.

"I've seen better," Monet countered.

Already used to her snobbish attitude, he simply ignored her statement and maintained some distance between the two of them. Staying near Sean, Michael said to him, "This isn't going to be easy. Kiana's mom was never really fond of Kiana joining Dr. Cain's project, so I don't know how she'll feel about your school."

"All we can do, lad, is present the situation at hand and let her make the right decision."

He hoped that it would be as easy as Sean made it sound, but he knew better. He glanced around, half-expecting the mysterious shadow creatures to appear from nowhere and attack again, but when they made it to the door without incident, Michael figured that they were reasonably safe for the time being.

After Sean knocked, the door opened slowly, and a young woman of Asian decent stood in the entranceway. Her jade green eyes studied her visitors carefully as if just by looking at them, she knew everything about them she needed. Then her eyes stopped on Michael and flooded with joyful recognition.

"Michael?!" Kiana immediately stepped past Sean and embraced Michael. "It's been way too long. Where have you been?"

Michael hugged her back, glad to see a familiar face. He appreciated Sean and the other's hospitality, and they were nice, but nothing was quite like being with an old friend. He pulled back and answered, "That's a long story. This is Mr. Sean Cassidy, the headmaster for the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. This is Everett, Jono, and Monet." Michael gestured to each person as he introduced them.

"Welcome to my home. If you're friends of Michael's, then you're friends of mine. Please, come in."

Kiana gestured for them to walk inside. Led by Sean, they all filed in, and immediately were taken by the interior of the house. Hardwood floors, antique furniture, and pieces presumed to be heirlooms were placed fittingly throughout the spacious rooms, making it look more like a well-kept museum than a home. However, there was still a certain coziness about it that made it relaxed and comfortable, despite the lavish furnishings.

"Mom was making some tea already, so it should be done in a few minutes," Kiana announced as she led them into the living room. Once everyone was seated, she asked, "This visit seems out of the blue. Is there something wrong?"

Michael looked to Sean for the background explanation.

"It seems yuir mentor, Dr. Cain, thinks that th' lot o' ye are in danger. He contacted Professor Charles Xavier an' asked that we find an' protect ye."

"Protect us?" Kiana's gaze flashed between Sean and Michael. "Protect us from what? And what happened to Dr. Cain?"

Everett answered, "When we first met Mike, he was attacked by these strange shadow people. Luckily, we worked together to fend them off. But right now, we still don't really know where they came from or why they attacked so suddenly."

Michael finished the explanation, "And I haven't heard from Dr. Cain. Mr. Cassidy thinks that he may be in hiding. Kiana, I think the Corporation has something to do with all of this."

She sat back on the couch, obviously trying to process the information she had just received. Kiana couldn't imagine something horrible having happened to Dr. Cain, especially at the hands of the Corporation, but the idea wasn't far-fetched. The room suddenly felt too cool, and she was racked by a chill.

"What about everyone else? Are they okay?"

"We have another team o' ours personally visitin' them to make sure they're safe," Sean said, hoping to ease the girl's apprehension. He could tell that all this news so suddenly was overwhelming, and he wished that they could've taken a little more time to sit down and talk. But so far, it didn't seem that time was on their side. Luckily, it didn't seem as though anyone had attacked Kiana's home. But Sean knew it was only a matter of time…

"It seems we have a full house today," Natsuko Asahara carried a tray of tea cups with a steaming pot of tea in the middle. Setting it on the table, she smiled at all of her guests and began to pour the tea. "Luckily, I think there's enough tea for everyone," she said then paused when she noticed Jono's scarf covering his mouth. "Would you like tea as well?" she politely asked Jono.

_"Uhh…no. But I appreciate the offer, ma'am,"_ Jono telepathically said. He felt a little embarrassed by not being able to accept the woman's hospitality. He didn't think until afterward about Natsuko being possibly surprised by the telepathic response, but she continued to pour without any reaction to it.

She handed cups to Sean, Monet, Everett, Michael, Kiana, and took one for herself, settling down in a chair next to Michael. After taking a sip, she said, "Michael, it's been a long time since I've seen you. You should visit more often."

Embarrassed, Michael replied, "Sorry, Ms. Asahara. I've been really busy with a summer class and work."

"We've already been talking, Mother, but these people are from Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters," Kiana explained.

Natsuko smiled knowingly. "You must be Sean Cassidy then. Shiro's spoken of you before."

Sean smiled. "Ah'm sure th' lad dinnae have anythin' nice t' say."

"Well, we all know how he can be. So what brings you this way?"

"Professor Xavier received a concerning message from Dr. Cain that eluded t' th' fact that yuir daughter and th' rest o' these lads may be in danger."

"I was attacked yesterday," Michael added. "Luckily, they were there to help."

Natsuko took another sip of her tea. "Mr. Cassidy, our family is close friends with the Shiro family and the hero you call Sunfire. He often speaks of Xavier and the high risk that comes with being associated with him and his schools. From my viewpoint, it only seems that Kiana would be putting herself in twice as much danger if she went with you."

"Point taken. Our proposal is t' enroll your daughter in the school 'til we figure out what is actually goin' on," Sean stated.

"Mother, I don't think I would be better off staying here," Kiana responded. "And I can't sit here knowing that something happened to Dr. Cain. And if everyone's there…" Kiana trailed off, suddenly feeling like everything was moving too fast.

It was only three years ago that her mother finally moved from Japan to Baltimore, a transfer because of her corporate job. Since returning from the Corporation's project, Kiana had finally bonded with her mother after years of difficulty following her father's death. Plus, she was finally settled in and looking forward to seeing her friends in the upcoming school year. And now, she was faced with the sudden choice of uprooting and leaving it all behind. Again.

"Ah know this is sudden…'tis the same for us. But if there is some danger loomin', we want to ensure ye and yuir daughter are protected."

"Mr. Cassidy, do you know what it's like to lose a loved one?"

"Aye. Ah've had t' experience it far too many times. Tis why Ah want t' ensure no one else has t' go through that. Ah care about these kids as if they were me own, no matter what. Life is unpredictable, so Ah cannae give ye a one-hundred percent guarantee that anyone will be safe. But Ah can guarantee that Ah'll give two-hundred percent of myself t' ensure no harm comes t' these kids. And yuir daughter is included."

Natsuko suddenly got a far-away look in her eyes. "Kiana's father passed away years ago. Since then, I have made every effort to ensure she didn't have to go down that same path. Little did I know that she had inherited the abilities, roles, and responsibilities of her father, thus making her a target. Mr. Cassidy, my daughter is all I have left in this world. How am I supposed to let her go off on a whim?"

"You're not," Sean concretely stated. "If ye let the lass go, ye have t' be confident that she's in good hands. Ye don't know much about us, and Ah dinnae know much about ye, but I value life. Ah've been blessed with th' chance to save others, and that's what Ah intend t' do."

Natsuko met eyes with Sean, impressed by his resolution and absolute devotion to not only Xavier's cause, but his own cause as well. And at that moment was when Natsuko knew Kiana would be safe no matter what. Yet, the feeling of letting her daughter go wasn't easy.

"One week, Mr. Cassidy," Natsuko said, glancing toward Kiana. "At that time, I will give my decision on whether Kiana will remain with you or come home. Until then, I will entrust you with her safety."

Kiana smiled, glad for her mother's flexibility and the chance to help. Though her reservations still lingered, the anticipation of finding their mentor overrode any hesitation she still had.

Sean gave Natsuko a handsome smile. To Kiana, he said, "Welcome t' th' team, lass."

III.

Emma was instantly reminded of an Old West showdown, a shootout where the two duelers stood facing each other, waiting for the other to make the first move to draw their gun. Right now, Jubilee and Vincent stood several feet apart, staring each other down, waiting for the other to make the first move. Though epic in appearance, Emma's patience was wearing thin.

"Jubilation, remember, we're on a time schedule. Do not draw this out any longer than it has to be."

"Underestimating me already, Ms. Frost?" Vincent asked.

"No. On their worst day, my students are better than you'll ever be."

"Yeah. Whatever, lady," Vincent smirked.

"Jubes, you sure you got this?" Angelo asked.

"This guy is cake. I'll totally wipe that smirk off his face," Jubilee let a competitive grin cross her lips. "Well, let's get this started!" she let a barrage of fireworks pour from her hands, creating a stream of flashing light and small booms.

Vincent rolled on his shoulder, effectively dodging the attack then from his hands, flames erupted. He shot out his hand and a fireball hurled towards Jubilee. She leaped into the air gracefully, flipping in mid-air then landing, closing the gap between Vincent and her. With her hand on the ground, she channeled her fireworks through the ground, creating a series of explosions underneath his feet.

_Impressive and innovative use of her power_, Emma thought, smiling to herself. Jubilee had come a long way since joining the school and this was the perfect way to evaluate her progression.

One of the explosions caught Vincent off-guard and lifted him into the air, throwing him to the ground several feet away. His eyes were closed for only a moment, but when they opened, Jubilee was suddenly there, looming over him with a haughty smirk on her face. Reacting accordingly, Vincent whipped his legs around with a loud grunt, hoping to catch Jubilee's ankles. But she easily performed a back handspring, the fancy sweep barely missing her legs and arms.

Vincent rushed forward with fire-reinforced punches. Jubilee watched carefully, keeping enough room to dodge each punch, but staying just close enough to take advantage of an opening. The punches were wild and telegraphed, which made Jubilee's reaction that much easier. Then after a right hook, Jubilee saw her opening—she sprang off her left leg and brought her right foot directly under Vincent's jaw.

The redhead stumbled back, nearly falling as Jubilee rushed in. He expected her to go low, since Jubilee had proved she was an unpredictable fighter. But she did a high barrel roll, catching Vincent's head in-between her legs. With another twist, Jubilee took him down then tightened her legs around his throat.

"One twist and you can say goodnight, bozo."

Vincent squirmed, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Flames enveloped his hands as he prepared for a desperation attack, but just as the flames flared, Jubilee tightened her hold and Vincent started to turn blue.

"Oh, now, I totally wouldn't do that if I were you, Red. I don't wanna make Angelo have to carry you back into the house."

Vincent lost his concentration and the flames dissipated as he tapped the ground, signifying his defeat.

Inside, Emma beamed with pride. But on the outside, she maintained her cool demeanor. "Jubilee, dear, please let the poor boy up. I wouldn't want to have to explain his unconsciousness or worse to his parents."

Jubilee grinned as she loosened her legs from around his neck then rolled to a standing position. "Dude, like don't even try to have a 'tude later. This day is in my back pocket forever."

Vincent coughed a little as he got to his feet. "Whatever," he croaked. "If it makes you feel good to brag, then go ahead you little bi—"

A sudden flying kick to the face interrupted Vincent's sentence, sending him to the ground again. Surprised, he expected Jubilee, but instead found Paige casting him a withering glare.

"My mama taught me that no woman should ever let a man call her that. I won't let you disrespect my friends. Ever. We're here to help you. But so help me, if you ever think about saying something like that again, I'll make sure to knock out all of your teeth." Paige's tone left no room for any question or doubt about whether she would actually follow through with her threat.

_My, my. I think my kids are finally getting it_, Emma thought to herself.

"Go girl power!" Jubilee gave Paige a high-five.

Vincent glanced toward Emma and Angelo as if they would say something to help, but Emma simply smugly stared down her nose at him and Angelo shook his head in pity.

As Jubilee, Angelo, and Paige began to walk away, Emma trailed behind and said to Vincent, "I'll let your parents know you're packing. Meet us in the front in ten minutes. I do have a schedule to maintain. And clean up your bleeding nose…I don't want your mess on my leather seats."

With that, she turned and proudly followed her students into the mansion.

IV.

Ethan Callaghan felt he had hit a dead end as the property manager for River Heights told him that Michael Lawson had actually left the premises. The slender young woman, who had earlier introduced herself as Amy, noticed Ethan's look of concern.

"Well, I'm not really supposed to do this, but you seem like you're a good friend of his, so I'll see if there's anything in the system for a forwarding address."

Ethan flashed a brilliant smile. "I'd appreciate that."

Amy felt her heart flutter slightly. His smile was gorgeous—actually Ethan was hot. Tall, broad shoulders, almost clear blue eyes, tanned complexion, muscular, well-dressed. Amy imagined that Ethan was actually a model or upcoming actor, a non-threatening patron looking for a friend. And since Michael himself was quite a cutie, it made sense that the two of them were friends.

Giving Ethan a flirtatious last look, Amy circled around her desk, sat down, and immediately began tapping on the keyboard. After a few more keystrokes, she mouthed something that she was reading then smiled. "Found it. He asked for his mail to be forwarded to the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters."

"Talking about my story, Ames?" a dark blonde male strolled into the office, grinning.

"Gray! What are you doing here? And why didn't you go to Lisa's party?"

Graylon Walsh plopped down in a chair across from Amy's desk. "I've been busy with these stories." It was then that he noticed Ethan.

"So where is Xavier's?" Ethan asked, hoping to get Amy to refocus.

"Oh, I apologize. It's right on the outskirts of town. I—actually, Graylon's not doing anything. He can take you."

Graylon's expression disagreed. "Thanks for volunteering my services. But I actually am busy. I came here looking for someone, Michael Lawson. What apartment is he in?"

Amy marveled, "Wow. Mike's really popular today. Ethan here is looking for him too."

Alarms immediately went off in Ethan's head, but he kept a cool exterior. It couldn't just be coincidence that the both of them were looking for Michael but why?

"Really? Are you friends with him?" Graylon asked Ethan.

Avoiding the question, Ethan gave Amy a pleasant smile. "I appreciate the info," he then turned to Graylon. "And I wouldn't want you to go out of your way. I'll just get a cab—"

"No, I insist," Graylon announced as he stood. He straightened his t-shirt and jeans then pulled his car keys out of his pocket. "You got any bags?"

Ethan didn't really want Graylon's help. Especially now that he knew Graylon had some hidden motive for tracking Michael down, and given the brief conversation, Graylon must have been some kind of reporter. I t wasn't the exposure that Ethan wanted or needed at this point. And he was sure Michael didn't want it either.

"Only one other one. But really, I don't want to impose—"

Graylon gave a smile that Ethan saw as fake. "Don't worry about it. Besides, we're both looking for Mikey, right? Two birds with one stone…or something like that," Graylon's eyes wandered toward the ceiling as he thought about the actual relevance of the cliché phrase. "Anyways," his gaze returned to Amy, "I'll text you later." He grabbed Brandon's bag, which was surprisingly light.

"Hey, we're going to Todd's tonight. So, maybe I'll see you there," Amy waved at Graylon. Then she added, "And bye, Ethan."

"It was a pleasure. Maybe I'll see you at Todd's too," he flirted. A blushing smile was returned, and Ethan smiled again as he turned and followed Graylon out to his car. As soon as she heard the door shut, Amy grabbed her phone and was immediately texting her girlfriends about the hot new guy in town.

Outside, Graylon and Ethan slid into a gray Nissan 350z convertible, and in no time, the car was zipping through the streets of Snow Valley. Ethan marveled at the small town feel and look of Snow Valley, although there were several more modern structures sprinkled throughout the town. Really, he just wanted to look absorbed in the skyline so Graylon wouldn't ask him anymore questions. It didn't work.

"Ethan, right? I'm Graylon."

"Good to meet you. So, where is Xavier's?" Ethan cordially asked.

"You must not be from around here. It's on the edge of town—it's like a boarding school or something like that. Rumor has it that it's a secret school for mutants."

"A secret school for mutants?" Ethan repeated then a smile spread across his face. "So, those are the kind of stories you write." He let the words linger, implicitly expressing his disbelief in Graylon's claims and disapproval of such fanciful stories. Of course, that's what Ethan _wanted_ Graylon to hear.

"You make me sound like a tabloid reporter," Graylon replied, his voice taking an offended tone.

"Aren't you?"

"No. There's really something strange going on up there, and someone's trying to cover it up. But for now, I'm focused on another story."

"So, does everyone around here read comic books and watch the SciFi channel? A mysterious boarding school for mutants? Come on."

"Mutants aren't so foreign of a concept around this area. Besides, don't you watch the news? Groups like the X-Men and Avengers are all over the place. So, why do think Michael went to Xavier's?"

_He's fishing_, Ethan decided. _That means he doesn't know Michael at all, and he could be dangerous. Or he's got some ulterior motive. Either way, I can't trust him._

Ethan replied, "Not sure, really. How do you know Michael?" he asked, hoping to turn the tables on Graylon.

"I don't know him. Today would have been the first time I talked to him. So is he a mutant?"

"Are you?"

Graylon stared straight ahead before saying anything. "I spend my time making sure that the public knows and understands what's going on up here. Xavier's is way too secretive and secluded, and these days, that's interpreted as dangerous. I'm already sure that it's a school for mutants. But I have a job to do, and whether it puts them in a bad light or not makes no difference to me. And the only reason your friend would go there would be because he was a mutant. And that's why I'm looking for him."

Ethan didn't like Graylon's answer at all. He knew Michael well, and the truth about his powers was something he kept under wraps. Because of that, the only way that Graylon could have known is if he was somehow connected to the Arminthorpe Corporation. And that wasn't necessarily a good thing.

He shifted in his seat, feeling a little more uneasy about Graylon. Ethan wasn't any closer to discerning Graylon's loyalties, and in fact, he mistrusted him even more now.

Graylon added, "I have to know the truth, and the public deserves to know the truth."

"Sometimes it's better not to know. Knowing only drags you into trouble you may not be ready for."

"Are you speaking from experience?"

"No. Not yet anyways. My truth is coming though. And when it does, I figure that I'll have to choose whether to accept it or turn away."

"Pretty philosophical for a California boy."

"What can I say? I've got a good head on my shoulders. Besides, I had a really great mentor throughout the years."

_But how in the hell did he know I was from California?_

Ethan was thankful that a gold placard placed on a six-foot high brick pillar with Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters etched into the gold loomed in front of them. Right past it, Graylon took a turn into a driveway then stopped at the large iron gates, surrounded by thick forest.

"This is your stop," Graylon announced.

Ethan hopped out of the car and grabbed his bags, the uneasiness melting away quickly. He scoped out the gates and spotted a small camera inconspicuously hidden behind a bush. He could understand why they had security with people like Graylon running around.

"Thanks for the ride," Ethan smiled. "You're not coming?" he asked when Graylon prepared to drive off. It was more of a reflexive, polite question—Ethan was actually thankful that he wasn't coming.

"You don't trust me. But this isn't the last time we'll cross paths. When we meet again, you'll understand." With that, Graylon shifted gears and sped off, back toward Snow Valley.

_Already off to a rocky start_, Ethan thought. Now, he was really confused about Graylon. Was he a friend or an enemy? Either way, something was unfolding, and somehow, Michael knew what was going on. But why didn't he call any of them?

Ethan was surprised to find the gate unlocked. It creaked open, and, taking a deep breath, Ethan pushed the conversation with Graylon to the back of his mind. He picked up his pace and made his way toward the towering mansion in front of him.

V.

Icy Delight was well-known throughout Snow Valley for its multitude of flavored ice cream, frozen yogurt, and frozen custard. Right around the corner from Mac's Diner, it was a great after-dinner treat. During the summer, it was a popular hangout for the junior high schoolers and even the high schoolers, though less frequently.

The inside was a little cozy, but it added to the friendly atmosphere of the family-owned business. Olivia Stine owned and ran the shop, along with her teenage daughter, Alyssa. Olivia usually employed other high school students during the summer, since that's when they had their big rush. Things were much calmer during the winter, but Alyssa would always lend a hand throughout the season.

Everyone loved going to Icy Delight not only for the ice cream, but because Olivia knew every single person and would treat them like family, always concerned about their well-being outside of the shop and remembering the most minute details about each person.

As Tom walked in with the girls trailing behind, Olivia gave him a warm greeting and came around the counter to get a better look at him and the girls.

"Why, Tom, it's been much too long. How have you been? How's work at the school going?"

"It's going pretty good. Emma and Sean have been great to work with so far. It's definitely a change from working at Our Mother of the Sacred Heart. It's working out though—the kids are great."

"They look so happy. I don't care what people say about that school, you all are doing a good thing for these gifted children. Whether they are mutants or not, they deserve a place to grow and learn just like everyone else."

"Well, I'm glad that at least one person can appreciate Xavier's."

"Make that two, Tom!" Alyssa called from behind the counter.

"We actually got a new student today. Nicole wanted to give her an orientation here."

Olivia clasped her hands in delight. "Splendid. Nicole, Claudette…how are you two doing?"

Nicole turned from the counter where she, Claudette, and Lily were eying the various flavors on display. "We're both doing great! We made a new friend today. This is Lily!"

Olivia studied the shy girl. "Lily, is it? Welcome to Icy Delight." Turning to Tom, Olivia quietly said, "She reminds me of my sister's daughter, who was in a fatal accident along with her husband years ago. My sister took the death hard…" Olivia trailed off as if she almost mentioned something she shouldn't have. "Oh my, here I am rambling about nonsense. What can I get for you all today?"

Tom felt that Olivia wanted to say more, but decided it would be a bit awkward. Maybe next time, he would be able to find out more about her sister, which up to this point, he had no idea about.

After ordering, they took the table adjacent to the large paneled window. It gave them a perfect view of the outside and the front door. Tom wished that he had paid closer attention when he helped Emma pull up files on the Arminthorpe project participants. It would have told him a little more about the young girl seated across from him, enjoying a heaping spoonful of strawberry ice cream. She was shy at first, but quickly learned that there's no shyness around Nicole. She talked to Lily about their home in Monaco, her friends, and the various other students at the school.

Lily listened intently, totally involved in Nicole's stories, ultimately forgetting her uncertainty and shyness.

When there was a sufficient break in the storytelling, Tom asked Lily, "I hope this isn't too abrupt, but I'm still curious as to what happened earlier and how you got to our school. If you're not ready to talk about it…"

Lily blushed a little but answered, "No, I can tell you." She sighed heavily then began, "Lately, something has just been feeling wrong. I can't really describe it. Ever since I left the project and went back home, things have seemed off—with my foster parents, with being back at home, even with my—" she stopped abruptly. "Things have just been strange. My powers allow me to sense when something's not quite right. I felt that something was going to happen to Dr. Cain. I left without telling my parents, taking the train from New York to here. When I got here, I didn't know where to go…I guess I really didn't think everything all the way through. But when I saw a pamphlet about your school, something told me I would find answers there. I found my own way there, but I guess I wasn't used to the heat."

"You walked all the way from the city?" Nicole asked.

"Not exactly. I—" Lily's head snapped toward the window. "Mr. Corsi, there's something out there."

Tom didn't like the sound of that, and he immediately cursed himself for bringing Lily into the city when it was possible that she could be targeted. As an ex-cop, he knew better. But now wasn't the time to beat himself up.

"Nicole, Claudette, we're leaving now." Tom stood, and thanked Olivia quickly for the hospitality and assured the woman they would be back next week.

Ushering the girls out of the shop, he led them toward the jeep, the warm summer day suddenly seeming much too hot and menacing. It wasn't until Tom was taken out by an unseen assailant that he realized they were in immediate danger. Reeling from the punch, he slammed into a SUV parked on the side of the road, leaving behind a man-sized dent. Unfazed, his eyes darted about in search of the girls.

"Let my sister go!" Nicole sprang off the ground and landed a flying punch in the figure's face.

Tom had to take a second look. Expecting to see a person or mutant of some sort, he was surprised that the figure was nothing more than a shadowy shape with no distinctive features—just an average male shadow that packed quite a punch. But it didn't stand a chance against Nicole's strength.

Grabbing her sister's hand, Nicole led Claudette toward the jeep, sprinting as quickly as their legs would carry them. But close in pursuit were three of the shadow figures noiselessly closing the gap.

Tom dashed forward, hoping to intercept them, but three more figures materialized from thin air, blocking his way. "Outta my way!" he put his shoulder down and rammed the middle one in the midsection. He took another punch from the one on the right, but returned one with twice as much force. A side kick took the last one out, and he continued toward the twins.

_Where the hell is Lily?_

A scream came from the other direction. His head snapped toward the cry, and he saw that Lily had been grabbed by one of the shadow figures. She unsuccessfully struggled against it as it continued to drag her toward some unknown destination. Before he decided who to save first, a flash of light drew his attention back toward the twins.

Monet was suddenly there, dressed in jeans, tennis shoes, and a t-shirt, as a sly smile crossed her face. "You may have had an advantage over us separately, but as one, we are invincible," two voices came from Monet, as if there were two of her talking at once. If Tom had the time, he would have marveled at the transformation and would have commended the girls on the attack that sent their three pursuers sprawling. With the twins' attackers taken out, he focused on saving Lily.

But now, it seemed that she didn't need any help.

Her eyes had an ethereal glow to them, somewhere between a white hot and golden hue. Wings the same color suddenly sprouted from her back, bathing the street in a soothing light. A bright flash repelled the shadow figure holding onto her, while two more strobe flashes caused the other shadow figures to collapse.

He was completely halted in his tracks, awed by the sight of Lily, who resembled a glorious angel personified. Her blond hair whipped around her face as she closed her eyes, extending her hands into the air. A beam of light enveloped her then spread, completely disintegrating the shadow figures.

Lily opened her eyes, which were now their normal emerald color. Flapping her wings once, they burst into millions of tiny lights which floated about for a few seconds then vanished into thin air, while she took a knee, her breathing heavy.

"Lily," Tom said as he neared her, "Are you okay?" He heard the twins approach from behind him, having already separated into their normal individual personas. Nicole was going on about how cool Lily's power was and asking if she thought the twins' power was cool.

"I'm okay," she responded, her voice a bit shaky. She saw a small scrape on Tom's arm, and gasped at the sight of seeping blood. "You—you're bleeding, Mr. Corsi!"

"It's nothing," Tom said, shrugging it off.

"Here, let me see if I can help," Lily offered, taking Tom's arm. Nicole and Claudette watched curiously as she covered Tom's wound with her hand. A warm glow shone from underneath her hand briefly then she removed it. He looked at his arm and the scrape was completely gone.

"Wow! That was awesome!" Nicole blurted out.

"She took the words right out of my mouth," Tom admitted, rubbing the spot on his arm. He then focused on the situation at hand. "Let's get out of here. We'll be safer at the school then we can talk about your powers."

Lily nodded in agreement, following Tom and the twins back to the vehicle. She glanced out toward a shadowy alley, positive that someone was there, watching them.

"Let's go!" Nicole said to Lily.

"Right," she responded, dismissing the feeling. She climbed into the passenger's side, still looking toward the alleyway, catching a glimpse of something—someone—as Tom sped off. In the back of her mind, she knew that someone was watching them, and it was only a matter of time before they made their move.

VI.

Gaia grinned as the warm summer breeze ruffled her hair and gracefully caressed her face. The sun peeked through the line of trees on either side of the road as she sped back to Xavier's. She felt good—she had a great practice and, Stevie had even complimented her on her moves today. She felt energy coursing through her body, and right now, there was nothing that could get her down.

She pressed the remote control to open the iron gates to the school then zipped on through, barely allowing the gates to open far enough to let her car go through unscathed. In her haste, she failed to notice the unfamiliar figure walking up the side of the driveway. Skidding to a stop near the front doors, she hopped out of her car, grabbed the grocery bag with only two boxes of Sugar Bombs, some personal effects, and freshly baked cupcakes, and headed toward the front door.

Expecting the door to be unlocked and open, she almost crushed the groceries as she collided with a locked door.

"Tell Leech password!" came from the other side of the door.

Gaia sighed, at first amused by the trite game. "Child, open the door. It is I, Gaia. Do you not know who I am?"

"Gaia could be Skrull. What is password?!"

She sighed, rolling her eyes. At least the children would be protected in the event there was some Skrull invasion. But such a claim was fanciful at best, and her good mood started to dwindle. She thought for a moment, trying to remember the absolutely irrelevant password Jubilee created. But it was so obscure, and she had not used it before, so she inadvertently forgot it.

Sighing, Gaia tugged at the door. "Leech, I have forgotten the password. But I can assure you that—"

"Excuse me, but is this the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters?"

Startled, she spun around, and found herself facing a young man a few inches taller than her, tanned, nearly clear blue eyes. His strong jawline and muscled figure made him look like he had stepped out of a magazine. And she knew that people in magazines were too good to be true. Something was amiss.

"You appear to be suspicious. Maybe you should come back later when the headmaster of the school is here," Gaia icily replied.

"Suspicious? Wait. It's not like I'm some weird shapeshifter or something. I'm just here looking for a friend."

_A skrull invader?!_ Gaia internally gasped, imagining the ridge-chinned, green-skinned aliens coming to earth, with the sole purpose of infiltrating their school. If Leech was defending the school against such a threat, surely there had to be a real threat at some time. And that time was now. There was no way that this overly handsome boy could be real, so his gorgeous exterior must have been a clever disguise.

"Leech, open the door. I am being threatened by a stranger!" Gaia beat on the door again, resisting the urge to simply telekinetically blow open the door, which would have only made it accessible to the potential Skrull invader.

Ethan flushed as he realized that there was some misunderstanding. The conversation had taken a wrong turn somewhere, though he wasn't exactly sure where. Ethan stepped forward, reaching for Gaia's arm. "Wait, I didn't mean to—"

"Fiend! You dare touch me?" Gaia's eyes shone bright pink as her hair and clothes whipped with an unseen wind. In the next second, Ethan found himself thrown across the lawn, his bags several feet away. He coughed, trying to regain his breath.

_A telekinetic. I should've taken my sparring sessions with Mike more seriously,_ Ethan thought as he hopped to his feet. With her suspicious behavior, it was clearly possible that she was trying to break into the school, and he had somehow caught her in the act. She was trying to displace her own guilt to cover her tracks.

"I don't know who you are, but I won't let you do whatever it is you're trying to do!" At any other time, Ethan probably would have laughed about this overly awkward misunderstanding, but the girl appeared to be serious. If he wasn't careful, this girl could seriously hurt him.

Gaia's bag floated to the ground as she approached Ethan, her telekinetic energy rippling the air around her. "This is my new home, and I shall defend it. You expected to invade our school without warning, but I shall thwart your wicked plans with ease. Expect a few broken bones, intruder."

_This girl is not playing around!_ Ethan realized. It wasn't in his nature to attack a girl, but he was left with no choice. This was totally a matter of self defense. But where were the people inside the school? Didn't they see what was going on out here? Why hadn't they come out to see what the matter was?

"So, I suppose we're past the point of talking, huh?" Ethan grinned. "Usually, I don't fight girls. They always fall for my charming smile, but I see you're going to play hard-to-get." He winked at Gaia, distracting her for a moment, which is all he needed. In less than a flash, he was upon Gaia, his hands wrapped around her midsection. "Now, let's take care of this telekinesis thing," he said, focusing his own psychic power to shut hers down.

"What have you done to me, monster?! Let me go!" Gaia found herself inexplicably without her telekinesis. She thrashed around in Ethan's arms, surprised at the strength he displayed. Without her telekinesis, she realized that she wasn't a match physically.

Ethan still had a smile on his face. "Relax. It's only a temporary shut down of your power. I'm not going to hurt you, so stop squirming."

"Unhand me! You…you MOLESTER!"

At the sound of that, Ethan let go quickly, stumbling backwards. "Whoa! Wait, you've got it all wrong—"

Gasping, Gaia spun on her heel, her hand clasping her chest dramatically. "First you attempt to take over the school then you hope to mate with me to create more of your hideous army!"

Ethan wondered if the girl was sane. In the distance, he heard a vehicle pull up.

"Gaia?!" Nicole leaped out of the car, her sister right behind her. Tom was on the move as well, already eying Ethan with mistrust.

"You, don't move unless you want a quick trip to the hospital," he coldly stated. To Gaia, who was helped to her feet by Nicole, Tom asked, "What happened? Who is this guy?"

Gaia flashed a look of hatred toward Ethan. "This Skrull invader tried to molest me!"

"What is it with you and molesting?! It wasn't like that at all!" Ethan yelled back.

Lily ran upon the scene, and stared at Ethan in disbelief. "Ethan! I can't believe it's you!" She ran up and threw her hands around his neck. Ethan awkwardly hugged her, still reeling from being called a molester. All the girls were staring at him strangely, which made him blush.

"Look! He has used his mind powers to enthrall that girl to molest her as well. We must subdue him!" Gaia sprang forward but Tom grabbed her arm.

Lily let Ethan go, and turned around with a perplexed expression. "He's not a molester. This is Ethan. He was in the project as well."

_Ethan Callaghan_, Tom remembered the name from the files.

"I _think_ there was a misunderstanding, but I'm not sure where the situation went wrong. I'm sorry for the trouble, sir," he directed toward Tom. "I came here looking for Michael Lawson."

Tom wasn't sure what to make of the situation. The young man didn't look like he was a threat, but Gaia was clearly upset. If anything, it probably was another misunderstanding, which Gaia seemed to always be at the center of.

"Everybody, calm down," Tom said, though it was really directed at Gaia, who was still glaring at Ethan. "Let's just go inside and get this all sorted out. We're not safe standing out here." Walking between Gaia's glare and Ethan's return stare, Tom approached the door.

"What is password?" came from the other side of the door as Tom knocked.

"Sugar Bombs," Tom replied.

Seconds later, the door unlatched and a grinning Leech and Artie stood in the doorway. Gaia grumbled as she telekinetically lifted her grocery bag and followed the rest inside.

VII.

Since leaving the Sellenger residence, the car had been uncomfortably quiet. Vincent stared out the window, obviously livid that he was stuck next to the girl that had beat him in a battle, Jubilee. And he was stuck behind Paige, who had given him a pretty powerful kick to the face. He still wasn't sure whether his nose was broken or not, but at least it had finally stopped bleeding.

"So, are you gonna like fill us in on what's goin' down, or are you gonna pout for the rest of the trip?"

Vincent said nothing, keeping his eyes glued to the trees speeding past. Annoyed, Jubilee sat back and crossed her arms, deciding that at the next stop, Paige was going to have her turn sitting between Angelo and Vincent.

"It really doesn't matter whether he talks or not, Jubilation. We have two more of his friends to retrieve. Hopefully, they're more cooperative and less hostile."

Paige manipulated a small handheld device that resembled an iPod. "According to Cerebra, their current location is in a building…called…The Byrne Company. It says here that it's a subsidiary of—Frost Enterprises?!"

"You act surprised. Ya know ol' Frosty's got her claws all over tha place," Jubilee stated.

Paige continued, ignoring Jubilee's comment. "Looks like they're enrolled in a summer internship program there. I'll program the address into the GPS." Paige made it happen quickly, and in less than a minute, the robotic, female GPS voice was spouting off the proper and fastest path to get to The Byrne Company.

Emma watched the girl curiously, commenting only after she was done. "You've become quite skilled with the plethora of X-gadgets. You could probably give that Pryde child a run for her money."

Paige looked surprised. "Kitty? No way. She's amazing."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Young women with a mouth that smart should be taught a thing or two about etiquette."

"Did you miss your lesson then?" Vincent spat.

Emma glared at him through the rearview mirror. "Unless you want to spend the rest of the trip believing you're a five-year-old girl while Paige braids your hair, I strongly suggest you keep your responses to a minimum. Speak only when spoken to, understood?"

Vincent rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

Paige flipped through the folder in her lap, feeling an uneasy amount of tension in the vehicle. Trying to break it, Paige said, "Enrique Juancarlos Vidal and Vanessa Ashley Wallace. Both seventeen. He can generate and control wind and air pressures. She's able to manipulate Darkforce energies. They both sound dangerous," she concluded, though from their pictures, they looked like normal high school students.

"If they're as dangerous as this guy, we don't have anything to worry about," Jubilee took a hard jab at Vincent. But she got no reaction from Vincent—but Paige turned halfway around in her seat and gave him a sympathetic look before glaring at her.

"Give the poor guy a break," said Paige.

"Says tha girl that like threatened ta totally destroy his pearly whites," Jubilee huffed and crossed her arms. "I won't say another word."

"Good!" Vincent and Angelo said simultaneously.

"Paige, we are totally switching seats at the next stop. Speaking of, are we like there yet?" Jubilee asked.

"The GPS says we've got about a half a block until we see—oh! Ms. Frost, there it is!"

"I'm already on it, dear."

Emma hit a sharp left turn then whipped into the parking lot, seemingly unmindful of oncoming traffic. She came to an abrupt stop in a parking space along the perimeter of The Byrne Corporation.

"Ay Dios! Let me out!" Angelo said, grasping his head.

"Whiplash city," Jubilee complained while rubbing her neck in an exaggerated motion.

Emma smiled. "You're secretly thanking me. The only thing on all of your minds was having to go to the bathroom."

The teens appreciated the much needed break, and so did Emma. But it would be short-lived as their pursuers were closer than any of them thought.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional


	5. Business as Usual

I.

Nervous chatter, though plentiful, was absorbed by the plush auditorium resulting in a soft white noise, no louder than a hushed whisper. Located on the third floor of the Byrne Corporation, the Auditorium was at maximum capacity, rows and rows of students, employees, and faculty intermingled in the audience. Most had arrived early and were becoming restless waiting for the annual awards program to begin.

A staple of the Corporation, the awards program was geared specifically for the summer interns, even though most of the employees of Byrne attended as well. It had become quite the tradition, gaining enough popularity to attract news crews and periodical employees.

Though some of the teens, mostly in the front, whispered with their immediate neighbors, they surreptitiously eyed one another, making snap judgments of who would be the most likely to receive the awards being handed out today. The competition was stiff all summer, and for most, the measure of their individual success rode on the outcome of today's meeting.

Moments later, when Frank Drexler stepped onto the stage, everyone immediately went silent. All eyes locked on the tall, broad-shouldered man, whose sheer presence demanded respect. Each step exuded a confidence found only in a handful of people, and when he took his place at the front, his intense, dark eyes seemed to see the inner-most thoughts of anyone in their path.

"Over the course of the summer, all of you have proven to be capable and able project managers and leaders. We continually challenged you. And none of you backed down. However, there were a select few that displayed true leadership under pressure. Today, I'm here to personally recognize their performance for my company. The top five performers will receive letters of recommendation from me and my vice president and a bonus check of five hundred dollars. And we will be handing out the Claremont Award, the highest award given to the participants in our summer internship program. This prestigious award is recognized throughout the business world and lets other businesses know that you've got what it takes to be successful and to make their company successful."

"I would like for Mason Cole, Shani Hamilton, and Jason Tate to please come forward. Join me in congratulating them on receiving a letter of recommendation." Frank began the clap as the audience joined in, their respective friends calling out their names and making a bit more noise. The three teens made their way through the isles, down to the stage, where they each took turns receiving a hearty handshake from Frank, as well as a sealed envelope and an encased letter of recommendation.

The three interns beamed as they stood in front of their peers, their hard work and dedication having paid off. As the claps started to die down, the trio made their way back to their seats, garnering shouts of congratulations and handshakes along the way.

Frank paused for just a moment to allow the last few whispers to die down. "This year was the most difficult that I have had in selecting a single top performer. For the first time in this program's history, I will be awarding two individuals the Claremont Award."

As expected a roar of whispers erupted, speculations and rumors already burning like wildfire. The most ambitious suddenly writhed in anticipation, while others simply counted on the program hopefuls to be in the running.

"These two individuals impressed me from day one, and now as I stand here before you all, it gives me great pleasure to award this distinction to the top performers of this year's group." Frank paused, mainly for dramatic effect, watching the crowd tense in anticipation. "Enrique Vidal and Vanessa Wallace, please come forward."

A roar of applause erupted, and some stood, glancing about for the two winners. Like the professionals they were, Vanessa and Enrique, stepped into the aisle, and though not sitting by each other, made it to the front at the same time. Huge grins were plastered across their face as they walked across the stage, Vanessa going first to shake Frank's hand. Frank exchanged quieted words with the both of them as he handed them the letters, sealed envelope, a certificate, and a bronzed eagle sitting atop a mountain with the inscription, _'When you soar like an eagle, there is no mountain you cannot overcome_._'_ Frank joined the audience with a congratulatory clap of his own, while Enrique and Vanessa smiled proudly into the crowd, giving their respective friends a wink and wave.

"Rico, can you believe this?" Vanessa whispered.

"Not in a million years."

"I know this may come as a surprise, but we actually have an unexpected guest, who we would love to come down to congratulate our winners as well. My boss, Ms. Emma Frost."

Immediately all heads turned to the back, where Emma thought she had slipped in unseen. But, not to ever appear to be caught unaware, Emma smiled and sauntered down the aisle, glad that she wore a business-like outfit. She could feel the looks of pining from some and the glare of envy from others, which only fueled her fire that much more.

She entered the stage from the opposite staircase, allowing her to shake hands with Frank first, exchanging whispered pleasantries.

Taking center stage, Emma took a glance over the crowd before starting into her speech.

"Our youth of today are vastly important. As technology of tomorrow shatters the stagnate business practices of yesteryear, companies and corporations need dynamic leaders, people who can effectively, and undoubtedly, lead their people and business into the world of tomorrow. The skills you now possess are invaluable—do not let them go to waste. Continue to mature and grow, ultimately becoming a catalyst for change…a leader of tomorrow."

More applause.

"Enrique and Vanessa, your achievements are astonishing at the very least, and I'm proud that two individuals such as yourselves chose Byrne Corporation as a place to learn and grow. Just as I hope we've shared with you important, life-long lessons, be assured that you have shared with us the gift of youth and vigor."

The applause was thunderous and the entire auditorium was on its feet not only for Emma, but for Rico and Vanessa as well.

"Wow, was that really Frosty?" Jubilee whispered down the row. "I've like never heard her say so many totally nice things in a row like that."

Vincent grumbled, "She's just making all that crap up. She doesn't really care."

Paige, thoroughly exasperated with Vincent's disposition, replied, "Is that really what you think? No matter how we fuss with each other, we're a family. Ms. Frost would do anything to make sure we can have a future, and whether you realize it or not, you're right in there with us."

The next half hour was a blur of congratulations for Rico and Vanessa, while Emma lightly touched on business matters with Frank and his partners. Jubilee, Angelo, and Paige struck up conversation with a few of the teenage students, finding out that Rico and Vanessa were definitely the ones everyone was rooting for.

Though initially, Jubilee was keeping an eye on him, Vincent managed to slip through the crowd and took a straight shot towards Rico and Vanessa, forcefully barging through small groups of teens and adults.

Spotting Vincent first, Vanessa's hazel eyes lit up. "Are you kidding me? Vincent, what are you doing here?" she laughed as she gave him a friendly hug. "Are you here by yourself?"

He glanced about to make sure no one from Xavier's had followed him. His voice an urgent whisper, he leaned in close to Rico and Vanessa. "There isn't much time. Something's happened to Dr. Cain. There're some whacko kids with their teacher, claiming to have been sent to help. But I don't believe them. We've gotta get outta here."

Rico held up his hands as to fend off Vincent's barrage. "Whoa. Slow down, dude. What happened to Cain?"

Impatiently, Vincent replied, "I don't know. We've got to go! Now!" Vincent grabbed Vanessa's hand, nearly making her drop her awards. Making his way through the crowd, Vincent, with Vanessa trailing behind him and Rico trying to catch up, headed toward the two exits in the front.

When they made it through the doors to an expansive hallway, Rico grabbed Vincent's wrist and pulled back. "You just pulled us out of our awards ceremony with some random explanation about Cain going missing. I want to know what the hell's going on."

"I told you, I don't know. These people say that something happened to him. That's all I know. But I don't trust them."

Vanessa asked, "What about Mike or Ethan? Have you talked to either one of them? Were they approached too?"

"Dammit. You guys aren't listening!"

Rico was becoming annoyed. "No, you're not making sense. You're hotheaded as usual without thinking things through. What's going on?"

Before Vincent could say anything, the far doors burst open. Jubilee, Paige, and Angelo came running in, stopping a few feet away from Vincent, Rico, and Vanessa.

"I'll tell you what's goin' on! That guy has been a total pain since we first laid eyes on him," Jubilee shouted.

"Who the hell are you?" asked Rico, the challenge in his voice unmistakable.

"The ones that are tryin' to save your ass, hombre," replied Angelo.

"We don't need your help," Vincent shot.

Vanessa could hear the escalation in everyone's voice. "Look, let's just calm down here."

"For all we know, you guys could be the ones who did something to Dr. Cain," Vincent interjected, seemingly ignoring Vanessa's suggestion.

Rico directed his next comment toward Jubilee, Angelo, and Paige. "Look, just back off. I don't know who you are, but right now, you're not helping. Otherwise, we'll back you off forcefully."

An appalled expression came across Paige's face. "Did you threaten us?"

"Sounds like you're itching for a fight. Well, amigos, let's give it to them," Angelo said.

Paige whispered, determined to be the voice of reason. "We can't take them on here. We're in the middle of one of Ms. Frost's businesses. Besides, given the fact that all three of them have far-reaching offensive abilities, and we've got two close quarter fighters, the odds aren't really in our favor."

"Those are like always the best odds," Jubilee smiled, feeling a flash of nostalgia from hanging with Wolverine. She readied herself for a quick battle that could potentially go either way.

"One _paf_ and you're grounded for life," Emma sternly said, walking up from behind. To the others, she said, "And if you dare let loose even the tiniest fraction of your powers, you'll regret it. I don't have the time or patience to deal with insolent teenagers that can't tell the difference between someone trying to help them and a real threat. Rico and Vanessa, gather your personal belongings and meet us in the lobby in ten minutes. I've arranged a special visit to our school as an additional reward for you. And I'm not in the mood to answer a million questions, especially while we're in one of my subsidiaries. Jubilee, Angelo, Paige, to the car, now." She tossed the keys and Angelo caught them with ease. "Rico, Vanessa, time is ticking."

The two teens cast each other a look, suddenly more confused than they were a few moments ago. "Let's just go along for now. This isn't the time or place for a confrontation," Rico whispered to Vanessa. She nodded in agreement, and the two of them headed toward the elevator.

Emma continued, "Vincent, I am quite tired of you causing friction with my students. You may think you're some badass pyromaniac, but really, you're a lost child, angry at the world because of your own shortcomings. At this point, I couldn't care less if something terrible happened to you. So now, you're making your own choices, if you're at the car when I pull away, fine. If not, fine. Have a nice trip back home."

With that, she turned away, following her students out to the car, leaving Vincent alone in the hallway.

_I hate her!_

He gnashed his teeth as the statement repeated over and over in his head. He quickly decided that she was in the same boat with the Corporation, and he was on a quest to sink that boat. For good.

II.

The Arminthorpe Corporation was headquartered near Snow Valley, located in an undeveloped part of the adjacent county. The isolation was both a hindrance and a blessing—the nearest city, Snow Valley, was about sixty miles away, but the isolation allowed for strict privacy and security measures that rivaled Fort Knox.

Personnel came from all over the country, and a handful hailed from European and Asian countries. There were many fields of expertise housed in the twenty-two story building, though most focused in some aspect of biology with an emphasis in genetics and the like. Only a fraction of the Corporation's activities were released to the public, but that sliver of information had helped them become a respected, world-renowned name in genetics.

People like Niles Cain were drawn in by the publicity and the thought of advancing in an area that still held so many uncovered mysteries. Niles was smart—perhaps too smart, which is why Mason Arminthorpe wanted him captured. The risk of the public finding out the darkest secrets of the Corporation was becoming too great.

Mason finished approving a three million dollar increase in funding for the special projects department, an area that he was personally familiar with. The funds moved to the department with only a few clicks of the mouse, and he was done just as his sons entered his office.

Trent closed the door behind them, as Lucas leaned against a marble table. "Father, we'll have up-to-date data on our subjects by tomorrow afternoon. The second group of Darkmen has been dispatched, and Matrix is remotely monitoring. Though I have no doubt that they'll beat the Darkmen with ease."

"As expected. Our young mutants aren't the children they once were, are they? As they've grown, so have their powers."

Trent sat in one of the plush chairs arranged in front of Mason's desk. He ran his fingers through his exaggerated blond bangs, but moments later, they toppled over his eyebrows once again. His dark brown eyes were intense, matching his father's and brother's eyes. Yet there was a hint of hidden kindness on the edges. People noticed and thought Trent to be the most approachable of the Arminthorpe men.

He said, "The only problem we have now is the involvement of the Xavier school. They have ties to the X-Men as well. It could present a problem later on."

Mason nodded in understanding. "I want that school monitored as well. I expect weekly updates on the school. If they go anywhere, I want someone with them. We cannot make our move until the timing is right. Those kids are a crucial part to the evolution of mutantkind—we cannot afford any setbacks or interference from any outside entities." As an afterthought, he added, "And I've employed Dr. Tedesco to assist with the undercover work as well. With the National Genetic Symposium in a few weeks, I'm sure that Xavier's will be attending, especially when they hear that we're sponsoring it."

"Is that wise considering he's only been doing lab work for at least the past decade?" Trent said.

"Father, we're fully capable of—"

"I don't doubt your abilities, son—neither one of you. And I understand that your team is trained and ready to go. But do not underestimate Adam. He is a force to be reckoned with, a valuable asset to this Corporation in terms of his expertise and ability. I expect him to be integrated with your team, Lucas."

Begrudgingly, Lucas agreed.

"By the way, how is Niles?"

Trent reported, "His stats are abnormally high. From our analysis, it seems that his mutation may actually be emerging."

"That isn't surprising, considering the abilities he displayed two nights ago," Mason mentioned. He then added, "Make sure to send someone to take care of Cain's home. I would hate for a certain snooping reporter to stumble on some remotely incriminating evidence."

"Consider it done," Lucas replied.

"That is all for today. Your work and loyalty are second to none."

"Thank you, Father," Lucas said.

"Yeah, thanks," Trent replied as he preceded Lucas out of the door.

Mason watched his sons leave, noting Trent's tone of disdain. Though something told him that he should be concerned about his son, mostly Mason saw the both of them as two more employees that happened to share both physical and psychological traits with him. The concept of family was lost to Mason long ago, and he never sought to get it back, immersing himself into his work.

And his sons followed suit.

But Trent—he was more like his mother, compassionate and fiery. But having always admired his brother, Trent tried to be like Lucas, stern and cold. And times like this presented a conflict for Trent. Mason was well aware that Trent didn't necessarily agree with their tactics and methods, especially when it came to Niles. Unlike Lucas, Trent was trained partially by Niles, and though he tried to put on a tough air, that there was a hidden soft spot for Cain and his students.

He decided that it wasn't even worth mentioning. Lucas would take care of it, and in no time, Trent would be the loyal assistant that was needed.

III.

After stowing Kiana Asahara's five bags, which Jono complained about being too heavy and left Everett wondering if she had packed her entire room, the X5 pulled away, sped through Baltimore, and then merged onto the highway, headed back toward Snow Valley.

The ride was uncomfortably quiet, which bothered Michael. He had to put forth a significant effort not to inadvertently pick up on everyone else's thoughts, though some were more blaring than others.

_I'm hungry—why does she have so many bags—what happened to Dr. Cain—is Kiana a mutant too—how's Emma doing—I wonder if someone knocked over the chess game—does Michael realize what he's done—why are we going through the trouble of finding these kids—is Sean going to speed the rest of the way home—I just want to take a nap right now—the sky is cloudless today—I wonder if—_

"Stop it!" Michael shouted, surprising everyone in the car. He could feel a dull headache from both trying to keep their thoughts out and from the trickle that somehow seeped in. Feeling slightly embarrassed over his abrupt outburst, he softened his tone. "Sorry. It's just that I'm still not good with this whole telepathic thing. With us being so close, it's a little more difficult to block out everyone's random thoughts."

Sean nodded understandingly. "Hopefully, lad, we'll find ye a teacher that can help ye with honing that part o' yuir powers. That's what Xavier's primary purpose is—t' help young mutant grow and adapt t' their abilities."

"Really?" he responded. In a sense, he understood how the outside world viewed Xavier's as a mutant training ground. But really, it was just a school with a little added flair to the curriculum. And he was thankful that there was someone out there that could help him understand and better utilize his growing abilities.

Monet leaned forward. "It would probably behoove you to receive tutelage from someone of my caliber that has no problem whatsoever with controlling my psychic abilities."

Michael turned around and glared at hert. "Look, I'm really sick of your attitude."

_"This is gonna get ugly,"_ Jono telepathically whispered to Everett and Kiana.

"You've been acting real snotty towards me ever since you met me, which completely blows me away since you're the only person that I even remotely know in this group."

Surprised, Everett asked, "Wait, you two know each other?"

"Yes," Michael simply answered. He then explained, "My father took me on a business trip to Morocco where we stayed for about three weeks. During that time, I met and befriended Marius, who was just a year older than me. And that's when I met Monet. Accidentally, of course, because she wasn't allowed to go outside. Now, I figure it's because your powers had begun to emerge, and your father probably didn't want you flying around town, especially when the anti-mutant sentiment was growing, even abroad."

Monet crossed her arms. "Then you should know that you are in part responsible for my imprisonment." The car went silent, everyone trying to comprehend this new revelation. Waiting for a moment to let what she said sink in, she explained, "Your father…my father…are half brothers. It's the real reason your father was in Morocco. But our father was already worried about Marius's developing powers, since it was only a short time before that…" Monet trailed off for a moment. "…an incident occurred. He didn't want to see any more family hurt, so he distanced himself and our family from yours, not knowing that Marius would find you anyways."

"So, Cartier must have known about my powers even back then," Michael deduced. Suddenly, things started to seem to fall in place, which only seemed to unnerve him more.

Monet coldly replied, "It's possible, but irrelevant at this point."

"But I haven't seen Marius since that time in Morocco," Michael mentioned then a chill ran down his spine. "That monster—it was…Marius? Then that red-skinned girl, she's involved somehow too, isn't she?"

"Penance," Everett stressed her name, "was a primary source of energy for Emplate. Because he fed off of her for so long, he ended up permanently adapting her powers. Gateway saved her, leaving her in our care."

Michael's head spun at learning all of this new information. Now, he felt less in control of his life, like someone had always had an eye on him, guiding and manipulating him toward some unforeseen destiny.

Monet continued, "After Marius assaulted you, stealing your psychic abilities, he used them to subdue me psychically before utilizing magic to imprison me physically inside of Penance."

"The girl…a physical vessel?" he repeated, amazed at the concept.

_"So what's next? Are we goin' to find out they're related to the Summers through some multi-dimension, time-spannin' crossover?"_ Jono facetiously asked.

"Not sure I'm following you," Kiana said.

"Don't worry, t'was a bad joke," Sean replied, glaring at Jono in the rearview mirror.

Annoyed, Monet crossed her arms. "You're not even apologetic for your role in what happened!"

"How am I supposed to be sorry?! I didn't even know any of this until now. Besides, if you were so competent with your powers, he wouldn't have imprisoned you so easily."

Monet felt her face grow hot. "How dare you—"

"Enough!" Sean finally interrupted. "Ah'd rather nae have th' lot o' ye arguin' all th' way back t' th' school, laddies. Let's all calm just down. We'll discuss it when we get back, agreed?"

"Whatever," Monet said, settling back, suddenly becoming interested in the passing trees. Michael wanted to say more, but out of respect for Sean, he simply turned around in the seat, more annoyed than ever. He had moments ago thought that Dr. Cain had done a smart thing by employing Xavier's to help, but now, he regretting ever agreeing to coming with them.

It was then that he decided their stay would be as short as possible, even if they had to find Dr. Cain on their own.

IV.

_Charles and I are going to have to chat about these kids_, Emma thought as she watched Rico and Vanessa wheel their suitcases toward the X5. Vincent trailed behind, his head down and shaggy red hair covering most of his face. Rico and Vanessa, though partially still riding high from their achievements had a bit of an edge about them. But considering the rush of events, she could partially understand.

In only a matter of hours, she had acquired three new students, not really by her choice. But Emma then realized that it had been quite some time since she had actually dealt with teenagers outside of her own students. She was used to all of their quirks, strengths, weaknesses, and demeanor. These new kids were foreign, and it didn't help that someone important to all of them was now M.I.A.

Rico and Vanessa appeared to be much more levelheaded than Vincent, but there was an air of mistrust behind their collected expressions. They stopped in front of Emma, their expressions locked in unyielding determination.

"We're not ready to leave yet, Ms. Frost," Vanessa announced as they drew near.

Emma rolled her eyes. "Dear, did one of you forget your teddy bear? I assure you that there are plenty more—"

"You don't exactly have the attitude of a good guy," Rico abruptly said. "How can we be sure that we're making the right decision by going with you? Vincent told us about you all being mutants and that you have some sort of psychic ability."

"Then you know I could simply make you come with me. You have free will to do whatever you like. But I agreed to ensure your safety, and it seems that all of you have the same flaw of being unable to take a hand that's reaching down to help you."

Vanessa said, "Look at it from our perspective. You appear out of nowhere then find out that the fabled Emma Frost actually came here to save us from some kind of danger we know nothing about. If anything, we're taking a huge leap of faith right now by simply talking to you."

Emma pulled the keys to the X5 out of her pocket. "I don't have time to coddle any of you. I don't have the time to explain every minute detail of this circumstance to you. And frankly, I wouldn't want to waste my breath. When we get back to the mansion, we'll reunite you with your other companions and explain everything then. Think of this as an orientation to Xavier's. If you like it, you can stay. If not, you'll get a plane ticket back home and you can fend for yourselves. Now, let's get these bags in the car."

Vanessa and Rico looked at each other, unsure if they had made any progress or understood anything more than they did five minutes ago. But they both picked up on the fact that the rest of their companions were already at the school, so if nothing else, they would be able to decide amongst themselves whether these people were worth staying with.

Rico motioned to the car and began heading that way with his bag. Vanessa followed, hoping that they were making the right decision.

Emma threw open the rear door, and Rico placed his bag in the bag, next to Vincent's then helped Vanessa put hers on top.

"Now, let's get back to the school and—"

"Uhh, Frosty?" Jubilee interrupted.

"It's Ms. Frost. And not now, Jubilation. Just get in the car."

Paige then said, "Ms. Frost, you might want to see this."

Annoyed, Emma slammed the rear door and glanced toward the girls. "What is it?" she snapped. Then she saw what they were looking at. Materializing out of thin air, figures, void of any distinguishing features save appearing to be living shadows, charged them.

Emma shook her head in disbelief. "I knew sooner or later we would run into some kind of delay. Those things definitely aren't here to give me a much needed massage."

"They're Darkforce constructs," Vanessa explained. "But they're tainted—somehow different from any Darkforce I've felt."

Rico gave a half-smile in anticipation of a fight. "No surprise there. Ms. Frost, you and your students should stay back. We can handle this."

Emma smiled, impressed with his chutzpah. "Chivalry at its finest. It is appreciated, but highly unnecessary. My students and I are quite capable. Besides, if you could handle yourselves, we wouldn't have been sent to protect you. Now, let's make this quick. And please, keep the fighting away from the X5."

Rico, though worried about the rest, had his hands full as four Darkmen closed in on him. Concentrating, Rico called forth a violent wind then with a motion of his hand, directed it toward the Darkmen. The sheer force of the wind took them off their feet, sending them tumbling backwards head over heels.

_I can't feel any of these things_, Emma thought. She was used to being able to quickly scan her enemies for intent and motive, but for these Darkmen, there was nothing there—only a barely detectable psychic link among all of them. Though not used to hand-to-hand combat, she was more than capable of defending herself, using well-placed strikes and kicks to stop her attackers.

Vanessa chose to keep her enemies at a distance, focusing her Darkforce energies into concussive blasts released from her hands. The ebon pulses found their mark, hitting the Darkmen with enough force to throw them back several feet, leaving them unconscious and unmoving.

In her steel form, Paige was unstoppable, using close combat to defend herself. Her hits resounded with a sickening thud as metal met the Darkmen's solid forms. In between hits, she took a glance around, and saw Angelo getting overwhelmed by an onslaught of Darkmen. "Angelo, behind you!"

Angelo ducked low then in a move closer to breakdancing than fighting, he twirled around on his back, letting his skin lash out like tentacles. The surrounding Darkmen were knocked off their feet. He acrobatically hopped to his feet, surveying the damage.

"Don't worry about me. I've got it all under control, chica," Angelo responded to Paige. But before he could hear a reply, he was hit hard from behind. As he fell, he twisted and lashed out with a tentacle of skin, hitting his attacker, another Darkman, with the force of a strong punch.

It staggered back then fell, courtesy of a sweep from Jubilee. She moved gracefully and fluidly, making use of her gymnastics and fighting skills, finishing off her foes with a spectacular display of fireworks.

Lances of fire danced around Vincent then, at his command, shot outward, blasting several Darkmen in the chest. But he was caught unaware as a Darkman blindsided him with a leaping side kick. Surprised by the blow, he recovered quickly, rolling as soon as he hit the ground. Flames shot from his hands, bathing his attacker in an inferno. He continued to blast more Darkmen, quickly reabsorbing the fire to prevent any flash fires from occurring.

Before the fighting became too intense, the Darkmen simply disappeared, without warning. Their bodies simply vanished into thin air, to include those that had fallen.

"Was that it?" Jubilee asked, sounding disappointed. "Those guys were a total piece of cake."

Emma tossed her head back, shaking her shoulder-length, blond hair back into place. "This wasn't an attack by any means. How better to get to know your enemies than through battle? These Darkmen were sent to test us," she explained. While she spoke, she scanned the entire area, searching for a thought pattern that was foreign or malicious in nature. She found none.

Paige looked pensive. "Which means they'll be back."

Emma quickly realized that in helping these kids, she had endangered her own. It was quite possible that they had all been catalogued in some database, and it would only be a matter of time before a full-fledged attack ensued. "Let's just get back to the school. We'll deal with the rest when it comes," Emma said.

The teens and Emma piled into the X5 and in about twenty minutes, they were back on the highway, heading back to the school.

V.

As soon as he opened his eyes, Niles Cain's head began to throb. He clenched his eyes closed, trying desperately to will the pain away. Unfortunately, one of his newfound abilities didn't encompass headache relief. Reopening his eyes, Niles groaned as the harsh florescent light from above shone down, blurring his vision.

Groaning, Niles swung his legs over the side of the cot, and stood, trying to shake off the headache and slight nausea. Before he even saw Trent, he sensed another presence nearby.

"I brought you some food," Trent coldly said as he slid the tray through a slot in the door. Immediately the aroma of medium-well steak, mashed garlic potatoes, steamed broccoli, and a hot buttered roll filled the cell. Niles felt his stomach growl and his mouth water in anticipation. He then realized that he hadn't eaten in two days.

"Thanks," Niles mumbled.

He wasn't sure whether some kind of drug was sprinkled all over the food, or if they planned on feeding him some kind of chemical to further change him. Pushing aside his suspicions, he took the tray and began to voraciously devour the meal, barely letting the taste linger in his mouth before shoving in another forkful. Every so often, Niles would take a healthy gulp of water to wash it down.

Trent watched him with morbid curiosity, wondering what internal changes Niles was going through. The monitors showed an ever-growing, unstable molecular change occurring, a constant since they first began to monitor him. However, there were no apparent changes to his appearance, and to Trent, he looked exactly the same as he had when he first met him.

But after thinking about it, Trent found that to be odd. It was almost as if Niles hadn't aged at all, retaining a youthful, healthy appearance though Niles had to be in his mid-thirties. Maybe it was a side effect of the growing mutation…

"You made a mistake by involving the Xavier school, Cain," Trent said, hoping to elicit some kind of response from Niles. Instead, the man kept eating as if he hadn't said a word. "Xavier can't help you or them. When the time comes, they will be at my father's side just as he wishes. As will you."

Niles finally looked up from his food, locking eyes with the pretentious teen. "And then what? Mason will rule the world? He'll remake the world the way he sees fit? He's no different from mutants like Magneto or Apocalypse. He's a narcissistic, megalomaniac and he's dragging innocent people into his twisted game."

"Careful, Cain. That's my father you're taking about. I don't take kindly to people speaking ill of him. Even you."

Niles shook his head. "You're a good person, Trent. But your loyalty will do nothing but hurt you in the end. Or worse. You and Lucas both."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Trent snapped.

"Deep down, you know that I'm right." Having finished his food, Niles slid the tray back through the slot. "I appreciate the meal. I'm going to need all the strength I can get—I'm sure the testing will begin soon."

Trent took the tray, impressed that there weren't even crumbs left on the plate. "You can thank Ms. Vaughn. She insisted we get you a decent meal."

Niles smiled. "Ms. Vaughn? Well, I'll have to thank her when I get the chance."

"Get some rest, Cain." With that, Trent turned and walked away, leaving him alone once again.

Settling back on the cot, Niles smiled, content with the fact that though he was imprisoned, the kids were save with Xavier's staff. But now, he wondered what the future held for both himself and the kids.

Author's Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional


	6. Everything Changes

I.

The various factions of Generation X, led by Sean Cassidy and Emma Frost, the headmasters of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, arrived back at the school within thirty minutes of each other, each bringing with them a small group of teenaged mutants. Though faced with several challenges, the targeted teens were found and were now seated in the living room.

Emma gave them explicit instructions, which included not arguing and staying put. Disappearing down the hallway, trailed by both Sean and Tom, they entered her expansive office, and Sean closed the door behind them. Sighing, she gently sat down in her high-backed, black leather chair, thankful for the small reprieve from the afternoon's excitement. Sean took the plush chair angled toward her desk while Tom simply leaned against the floor-to-ceiling bookcase.

Placing her elbows on the desk and propping her chin on her hands, Emma sighed deeply, unsure of where to begin. Her mind raced through the different ways to handle the new students, as well as the issues still looming regarding the school board recommendation.

Finally, she said, "Well, I don't think I'm the only one that had an exciting time with our new recruits."

"We didn't want you to have all the fun, Emma," Tom replied with a huge smile.

Emma couldn't help but to smile in response. "Our shadowy aggressors are apparently called Darkmen and are some kind of Darkforce creation, so says one of the new students who happens to control Darkforce energies. But she said there was something tainted about them—something abnormal."

"Ah'll have Hank do a wee bit o' research to see who else can possibly access th' Darkforce Dimension. That should narrow down our attacker. Then we can simply trace them back t' th' Corporation. Ah can also see if we can get a monitor on their communications lines."

Emma nodded in agreement, glad that Sean had a solid head on his shoulders. She had learned early on not to underestimate Sean. Though he appeared like the amiable father figure or a common thug depending on whether he had a goatee or not, Sean was quite capable of in-depth, strategic planning and execution, learned from his days as an Interpol agent.

Tom frowned, crossing his arms. "These Darkmen…they concern me. If the Corporation had intended on taking the kids, they would have sent out their A-list goons. These Darkmen were faceless flunkies."

"It's simple, really. The same ruthless tactics are used in the business world everyday. The Corporation simply wanted to evaluate their adversary. They probably monitored the situation remotely and catalogued information on most if not all of us," Emma sat back, crossing her legs.

"So they're a step ahead?"

"Not necessarily," replied she thoughtfully. "More than likely, we're an unexpected twist in their plans. In their own right, our kids are powerful and unpredictable wild cards for them. And because of our ties to the X-Men, they would rather not risk any faction of Xavier's crusaders breathing down their neck. So, they're going to do what any villain worth their salt would do."

"Wait," Sean finished.

"Exactly."

Tom frowned, discontent with the assessment. "So then, now's the best time for us to take them down."

"Hardly," Emma countered. "All we have right now is a cryptic message from someone, whose whereabouts are unknown. And a group of kids, who, in some cases, we've managed to kidnap, or so the law would say, leaving out the fact that we're saving them from faceless Darkmen. The situation sounds shaky at best. We're going to need more before we just go kicking in the door."

Tom replied, "So we're in the same boat they're in. We're playing a waiting game."

"And right now, I'm content with that," answered Emma. "I really don't want them in anymore danger than they've already been in. They're here to learn, and it's our job to teach them, not let them run all over the place, playing superhero. That is why I'm going to order new training uniforms for all of our students. If they're going to be here, they are going to have to fall in line with our school rules and curriculum. To include Danger Room sessions."

Sean nodded. "Aye, Ah agree with ye. Th' ones Ah've chatted with seem quite interested in learnin' more about their powers. Ah'll get started on th' academic curriculum."

Emma continued, "Tom, provide me with a solid training regimen and classes designed specifically for ability training. We'll probably have the X-Men help us with this, when they're not busy circling the universe averting some new catastrophe."

"Ach, ye miss the adventure."

"Please, Sean. I get more than my fill here, trust me. I think that I'm also going to hire a butler. Since we have so many kids, we're going to need someone strictly dedicated to keeping the place reasonably clean and taking care of the food. And I'm also going to ask Cecelia Reyes to work here full time. I'm not fond of her attitude by any means, but she is a competent and accomplished doctor."

"A full-time doctor?" Tom asked, frowning. "Are you expecting a lot of injuries?"

"When I took this job, I didn't expect this to be a junior X-Men team. Though I want us out of the superhero business, I'm wise enough to know that just because we don't want to be superheroes doesn't mean that the villains will take us off their hit list. Besides, we already know that we're being targeted by this Corporation. Having medical staff on-site would have also helped us during Ms. Pickwick's unfortunate heart attack."

"Speaking of, how is she doing?" asked Tom.

"I spoke to the hospital staff yesterday. They said she was stable and that they were probably releasing her later on today. I'm sure that once she's released from the hospital, this will be the first place she stops." Changing the subject, Emma continued, "As far as the new students go, I'll take care of the paperwork to enroll them here for the time being. I don't want to take any chances with our recommendation from the school board still looming. And of course, we'll have to talk to their parents."

Seam leaned forward, placing his elbows on his thighs. "Ah think we may have a wee conflict amongst th' students. Apparently, Michael and Monet are distant relatives, and Emplate may have used some o' th' lad's abilities to imprison her."

Emma shook her head in disbelief. "Great. Please don't tell me that they're also related to the Summers or that wretched Jean Grey through some time-displaced nonsense or some kind of outlandish cloning plot."

Sean smiled. "Yuir th' second one t' say somethin' like that. Ah think we're safe from anythin' like that. But still, Ah'm worried. We've got almost twice th' student body now, with lads and lasses that have secrets an' unique powers o' their own, who happen t' have a large corporation chasin' them down."

"We'll take a visit to the mansion sometime next week and have a sit-down with Charles. Maybe he has a little more information for us. And can offer some guidance, since Charles himself has been in the same boat with the various recruits and incarnations of the X-Men."

Sean sighed heavily as he stood. "It sounds like we're goin' t' have our hands full."

"I just hope our hands are big enough, Sean."

II.

While Emma, Sean, and Tom planned out the immediate future of Generation X, the students were sitting in the living room, trying to make it through the uncomfortable present. They were seated around the room on couches, chairs, and the floor, and normally with so many people, it would be teeming with life. But right now, that life was gone, replaced by a deafening silence. No one spoke.

For the new students, they had been taken from their homes just this morning and relocated to the school because they were being pursued by the Arminthorpe Corporation, which could have also been responsible for the unexplained disappearance of their mentor, Dr. Niles Cain.

For the older students, they regarded the new ones suspiciously. Most of their interactions got off on the wrong foot, so they already had a rough start. Tensions were already high between the two groups, because of previously unknown relationships or just normal personality conflicts.

So they all sat around, uncomfortably shifting in their seats, giving surreptitious glances at each other out of their peripheral vision, but refusing to say anything.

Paige sighed deeply, not used to such a quiet environment. Growing up with several brothers and sisters then immediately attending Xavier's meant that Paige never experienced unfettered silence or loneliness. She was always around people, who, for better or worse, were full of energy and lively spark.

Determined to bring it back, she cleared her throat and suggested, "Why don't we introduce ourselves and tell a little bit about our powers. I mean, we're classmates now, so we should get to know each other a little bit."

Jubilee blew a bubble and popped it, shifting in her place on the arm of the couch. "We're not like in kindergarten, Hayseed."

"I know that, but we but we still need to get to know each other, right?" Jubilee opened her mouth to reply, but Paige didn't give her a chance. "I'll start. I'm Paige Guthrie. Umm, let's see…I go by Husk in the field. I can change into different forms by ripping off my skin."

"Yeah, and it's like totally gross," Jubilee added.

A few chuckles sounded, making Paige smile. To her, the laughter meant that they were feeling more comfortable, despite that it was at her expense. The room fell silent again, and she suddenly thought no one else was going to participate.

"Everett Thomas, called Synch. I can hone in on any mutant in close range and use their power."

_Thank you, Ev,_ Paige thought. All she needed was a little support, and surely everyone else would speak up. Everett gave her a nod as if he had heard her gratitude.

"Okay, one of our new folks should go next," Paige suggested, smiling. As she glanced around, everyone was becoming shy again, breaking and avoiding eye contact with her. "Come on, guys," she coaxed.

Michael waved his hand, and Paige motioned for him to introduce himself. "I'm Michael Lawson. They call me Marvel—"

Vanessa's face contorted into an expression of disbelief, giving him a half-frown. "Wait, who exactly calls you Marvel?"

Confused, Everett asked, "He told us that was his codename yesterday."

Rico rolled his eyes. "We're not a superhero team. We don't have codenames."

Michael smiled sheepishly. "Well, see, what happened was—"

"Boo!" Vanessa and Rico said in chorus, throwing pillows at him.

"Wait! Wait!" Michael said, shielding himself from the barrages of fluffy projectiles. They stopped throwing, and he grinned. "I had to make up something. I mean, Everett was introducing everyone with these really cool codenames like Banshee and Chamber. I didn't want to be the one out there without a codename."

The elicited a few more laughs.

"You're getting like mad cool points right now," Jubilee sarcastically said. "Marvel…that name is like total hotness."

Michael laughed. "Well, I'm sticking with it. Besides, I've done my research. There are plenty Marvels out there. Marvel Boy, Marvel Girl, Captain Marvel, Ms. Marvel."

"Didn't some of those people change their name?" Everett asked thoughtfully.

Kiana asked, "So now we have to have codenames?"

Paige answered, "I mean, you don't _have_ to. It kind of helps in the Danger Room."

"Danger Room?" Rico asked.

"We'll talk about that later," Everett replied.

Ethan smiled a bright, dazzling smile, deciding he would go next. "I'm Ethan Callaghan, from California. I guess you can call me Vanguard. I've got the standard super strength, speed, agility, healing factor, boost or negate superpowers—nothing special."

"Wow. Monet," Jubilee attempted to bait her, "sounds like you've got some competition in the who's-got-more-powers game." Leaning over to Paige, she quickly whispered, "Wow, he's like a total hottie. And I think he was totally smiling at you. Looks like Jono has some competition."

"Jubilee!" Paige playfully slapped her arm, her face completely red. She could feel Jono's eyes staring at her, but she purposefully avoided his glance.

"Secrets, secrets are no fun—secrets, secrets hurt someone!" Michael chanted in a sing-song voice.

"Dude. We are not in elementary school," Ethan said.

"Exactly. No secrets among friends, right?" Michael quipped then shot a glance toward the girls.

Jubilee grinned. "As if. We're totally not even on the friend level yet. Besides, girl talk is like totally off-limits to boys."

Monet flipped her long jet black hair, silently interrupting the playful banter. With a haughty glint in her eyes, she said, I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Monet Yvette Clarisse Maria Therese St. Croix—"

Jubilee rolled her eyes. "Just call her M. That's what we do. And like don't get her started on her laundry list of powers. She's just like Little Miz Perfect."

Ignoring the comment, Monet continued, "I have the gifts of superhuman strength, endurance, agility, dexterity, speed, reflexes, coordination, and balance. I possess a healing factor, telepathy, and mutant aura perception. I'm quite capable in hand-to-hand combat, and I have genius intellect. And I almost forgot to mention that I am beautiful, but that comes naturally."

"Are you kidding me?!" Jubilee said, eliciting laughter from everyone.

Crossing her arms, she said, "Please continue, with the rest of the introductions, though none will be as extensive as mine. And undoubtedly, I win the who's-got-more-powers game."

Paige wished that Monet would've made a better first impression, but then she realized that Monet was just being herself, which sometimes wasn't a good thing.

"Rico Vidal," he spoke up. "I'm not perfect by any means, sorry to disappoint everyone." He got a few groans in response, to which he grinned. "Basically, I can control air currents."

"Codename?" Michael asked.

"Umm…let's see. Typhoon? What about Whirlwind? Vortex? Or Breezy…just kidding. Uh…Tempest?" Rico asked.

"Vortex sounds cool," Ethan agreed, giving him a thumbs up.

"Vortex it is."

Michael motioned to Jubilee. "So when are you going to introduce yourself, instead of telling secrets and giving sideline commentary?"

Oohs rumbled through the room, like Michael had just said something horrendously damaging to her character. Jubilee laughed.

"Jubilation Lee. But just call me Jubilee even on the field. Fireworks are my thing as dear Vinnie found out."

Vincent felt his face instantly go red, along with his anger. "You want a rematch?" he let flames envelop his hand as it pointed at Jubilee.

"Let's not start fighting again," Paige said, realizing there was going to be continuing tension between Vincent and Jubilee.

"Hey, man!" Rico's eyes were wide with surprise. "Did you get into a fight and lose? To a girl?" Without waiting for an answer, he burst out laughing.

"Easy, Rico. Don't make the situation worse," Vanessa said. She shook her head, knowing that he always inserted himself into tense situations, and somehow made them exponentially worse. She would rather there not be any tension among them, although Michael and Monet seemed a little more than tense with each other.

To everyone, she announced, "I'm Vanessa Wallace. I guess you can call me Sable. I can manipulate Darkforce energy for different effects—flying and energy blasts mostly. I'm trying to figure out some new uses for my powers though."

Angelo mimicked Monet, straightening himself in his chair, giving an expression of haughty royalty and an accent to match. "I'm Angelo Espinoza, affectionately called Skin by my teammates. I have but one superpower—all this extra skin that I don't know what to do with." He pulled at his arm, and like a sheet draped over it, his skin lifted into the air, before he let it go, allowing it to snap back into place.

Lately, keeping his extra skin tight as well as altering his pigmentation had become much easier, the headaches that used to accompany the task almost non-existent.

Jono spoke next. _"My name is Jonothan Starsmore. Call me Jono. Chamber in the Danger Room,"_ he began. Jono pulled down his scarf, revealing a churning, ethereal glow of energy. _"This energy blew off my face and half of my body."_

"Oh, wow!" Rico said, trying to get a closer look at the energy.

Lily's eyes were wide with concern. "I—I don't understand. How do you eat? Can you breathe?"

_"I don't do either one, gel,"_ Jono answered, letting his scarf hide the energy once again.

"Hey, why don't you sound more depressed about it, chico?" Angelo said, before stretching across the room to ruffle his hair.

_"You bloody bloke!"_ Jono batted away the tentacles of skin, which seemed to be humorous to everyone but him.

"Vincent Sellenger. Call me Cinder," he bluntly said. He didn't like this little elementary school game they were playing, but he figured that Frost lady wouldn't let him hear the end of it if he didn't play nice with the other kids.

"I think 'Tude would be more fitting," Jubilee whispered to Paige.

Kiana gave a friendly smile before introducing herself. "My name is Kiana Asahara. For now, in battle I would go by _Onmyoji_, but since that probably seems a little complex for most, the best English translation would be Oracle. I inherited the Matsumura Sword from my father when he passed away, as well as his magic manipulation ability. Technically, I'm not a mutant, but I'm glad to be here with all of you, and I'll help out in anyway I can."

"Welcome to the team, Kiana," Paige returned her smile.

Gaia cleared her throat, drawing everyone's attention. "I am Gaia Sophronia."

"Like when did you get a last name?" Jubilee asked.

"Since all of you have at least two names, I figure it was only appropriate that I do the same to fit in better. It is on my driver's license as well."

"At least she chose a Greek name to match her first name," Monet commented.

Jubilee rolled her eyes. "You're like the only one in this room that really would totally care about something like that."

Continuing, Gaia said, "I was the Guardian of the Universal Amalgamator for thousands of years, chained to the device until its destruction. Everett freed me, saving me from certain death. I manipulate matter with my mind as well as mind-speak."

"Mind-speak?" Jubilee repeated.

"Telepathy," Monet flatly said. "Or would you like it mashed into baby-sized bites for you?"

"Whatev. She's the one talking like totally she stepped out of Othello. Mind-speak? Who really says that?"

"I'm undoubtedly shocked that you're even remotely familiar with any Shakespearean work. I surmised that unless it was in syndication on MTV, you held no interest in it."

"Puh-leeze, Monet. I have tons of class. I just don't act like a stuck up—"

"So who's next?" Paige interjected, having the distinct feeling that a fight was brewing between Monet and Jubilee.

Lily looked surprised when a silence ensued. "Oh, it must be my turn. My name is Lily Madison—"

"She's an angel!" Nicole blurted out.

Lily smiled, casting her eyes downward as her cheeks reddened. "I'm not really an angel. I can create wings of light on my back."

Nicole said, "You should have seen her earlier, she was so beautiful. I know! We should call you Lightwing!"

"Lightwing it is then," Lily smiled, at first embarrassed by Nicole's forwardness. But she appreciated the young girl's efforts to make her feel welcome.

Nicole suddenly looked as though she had forgotten something. "Oh, maybe I should've introduced myself too. I'm Nicole, and this is Claudette. We're Monet's sisters. Claudette has all of the mental type powers, while I have all the physical type powers. We also can merge to create a whole Monet!" Nicole seemed very excited as she spoke.

"I think that's everyone," Paige said. Penance bounded into the room and perched in the middle of the room. "Oh, I almost forgot, this is Penance. We usually call her Penny. We still don't know too much about her," Paige looked to Monet to fill in the gaps.

"Her real name is Yvette, that's all I know," Monet folded her arms, signifying she was going to say nothing more.

Paige continued, "Well, we know she likes apples too. She has razor sharp claws and diamond hard skin. As far as we can figure, she's deaf and mute. She's still a bit timid, so be careful around her. Also, Artie and Leech are around here somewhere. They are two little Morlocks that we saved a while ago. They are both cute little guys, so treat them nicely."

"Well, welcome to Generation X, everyone." Everett smiled.

After all the introductions had been made, small chatter ensued, which grew into loud, but fun conversation, involving everyone.

"Well, it's nice that all of you are at least speaking to each other," Emma said as she strode into the room, flanked by Tom and Sean. The trio stood so that all of the students could see them and they could see all the students.

"Our visit from the State Educational Standard Board came at the worst time possible. The Xavier Institute for Higher Learning and the Xavier Institute for Gifted Children are supposed to be known worldwide for their academic prowess. My goal is to regain that prestige—to be ranked among the best academic college prep schools in the nation. What that means to you is a strict class regimen, guest lectures, placement classes, lots of homework, and a curfew."

Instantly voices of dissent sounded.

"Academically, we're going to be tough. As for mutant-ability training, we're going to give the X-Men a run for their money. You're here to learn about your mutant abilities, control them, and mature them. Expect workouts as well as Danger Room training and Combat Skills Training. Everyday."

More groans.

"Lastly, this is a school and as such, all faculty members, to include Sean and me, will be addressed in a more formal manner," she said, watching as they continued to dissent over the new rules.

"Well, I think it's a good idea, Ms. Frost," Gaia smiled.

Monet shot her a withering glance. "And just how, pray tell, would you even pretend to comprehend the implications of this? If I recall correctly, which I always do, you have been imprisoned at the end of the universe for the past few millennia." Addressing everyone else, she said, "As I have attended the best, most progressive schools, I'll gladly inform you that it is _de rigueur_ to address faculty by first names."

A half-smile crossed Emma's full lips. "Informative in your usual charming manner, Monet. But the rule stands. The rest of the faculty and I will be meeting with you all bright and early tomorrow morning, so I suggest you kids get some sleep."

"Wow, this place sounds pretty intense already," Rico whispered to Vanessa.

"That's right, children," Emma said as she glanced from face to face. "Starting today, everything changes."

III.

"So, everything changes, huh?" Jubilee said as she absently flipped the page of the magazine spread out in front of her. She made a disgusted face at an emaciated model, wearing some new fashion that looked more like an alien outfit. She absently scanned the pictures and avoiding the articles, her mind focused on the recent developments and shift of the school. "Bet Ol' Frosty's been chompin' at tha bit ta like use that line. But what's up with her like sudden mood change?"

Everett leaned against the back of his desk chair and put his hands on his head. "You know, she does have a point. We really haven't been doing much schoolwork or power development lately—it's just one crisis after another. Maybe this change is good."

"So says the star pupil," Angelo smirked. "Action—right up my alley. Books, not so much, hombre. You know, I'm not up for this superhero stuff, but I'd rather be doing that than calculus any day."

Everett then mentioned, "You know, we still haven't gotten the results back from the school board yet."

Angelo suddenly realized the correlation Everett was making. "You think all these changes have somethin' to do with Ms. Pickwick?"

Jubilee looked up from her magazine, giving Angelo a disbelieving glare. "Dude, are you serious? It has like everything ta do with her. Not only did she like rip tha school apart, but we got totally outted on tha news by stupid ol' Walsh. Not really a good look fer us, ya know?"

"Hey," Angelo interjected in, changing the subject, "what do you guys think about the new kids?"

Jubilee's face contorted into utter abhorrence. "That Vincent kid is mega-ick. He totally has a bad 'tude." She talked through Everett's and Angelo's laughter. "I'm serious. He was like all macho and a total jerk. Of course, I had ta teach him a thing er two."

"Well, some of the chicas are muy buenas," Angelo grinned lasciviously.

Jubilee's expression worsened. "Eww. Stop bein' such a perv, Ange."

"Hey, I heard you and Paige talkin' about Ethan…" Angelo shot.

"Girl talk. You boys have tha like worst habit of eavesdroppin'."

Everett shook his head, positive that the conversation had somehow digressed. "I think they'll be fine, but we've got to be sure to help them settle in here. I think the changes are for the better, but it's going to take some getting used to."

Jubilee smiled. "Well, if Ev says it's gonna work out, then it's gonna work out. Case closed."

Still unsettled, Angelo said, "I understand the school thing, but just 'cause we're here for schoolin' doesn't mean the action's gonna stop, hombre."

Everett smiled. "And that's why we're still Generation X."

IV.

Ethan pulled another shirt out of his dark blue duffel bag, and placed it in a drawer. Turning to Michael and Kiana, who were keeping him company, he said, "So here we are. We've been taken away from our normal lives and enrolled here at Xavier's. We know that the Corporation's up to something, and we're sure that something's happened to Dr. Cain."

"That about sums it up," Michael answered. He let out a heavy sigh, discontent that the fragment of information was all they had. His initial reason for moving to Snow Valley was to observe Dr. Cain and to prevent something like this from happening. But he had failed. And now, everyone had been drawn into something that was quickly turning ominous.

"So we're just supposed to sit here under the umbrella of Xavier's while the Corporation is doing who-knows-what to Cain?" Vincent stormed through the door, his usual expression of anger across his face.

"You really should calm down. Things will be fine," Kiana suggested, quite used to his agitated nature. It seemed to her that Vincent looked for any excuse to be upset, though this time, his reaction was valid. "I know that you're upset, but it's not going to help us figure out how to help Dr. Cain."

"Sitting around here isn't helping much either," Vincent shot.

"Hey, why don't you just calm down," Michael said, an edge of annoyance creeping into his own voice.

Vincent's eyes fixed darkly on him. "Whatever. If you want to sit here with these weird kids, I couldn't care less. I'll figure it out on my own."

Michael shifted, feeling his annoyance growing into full-fledged anger. It seemed as though the room had suddenly increased in temperature, and he wondered fleetingly if it was Vincent's doing. "Great. That's real mature, Vincent. You go off on your own to figure it out then. Like we're not doing our best here."

"If you had been doing your best," Vincent narrowed his eyes, "Cain wouldn't be gone."

Michael's eyes instantly reverted to a hot blue, two bottomless pits of boiling psychic energy. "You don't know anything. Besides, what help are you, really? You come in here with your temper as usual, only making things worse. If anything, you're the most useless member of the team."

Kiana gasped at the stinging words, shocked that they had actually come from Michael's mouth. When she glanced at Ethan, he too seemed surprised at the viciousness of the comments. For a moment, Vincent simply stared at him, as if he had been physically struck. The only one that moved was Michael, who now stood as the blue energies rippled his clothes.

"I'm sick of your crap," his voice escalated.

Ethan swore he felt the entire room begin to vibrate, and he watched as smaller items began to come to life, energized by Michael's telekinesis. _Was Michael this powerful before?_ he questioned. He remembered back to the days when they were at the Corporation, and Michael had trouble with moving anything over about a hundred pounds. Now it seemed that without much effort, the entire room trembled.

Flames enveloped Vincent's hands as flickering shadows masked his face. "Looks like you wanna fight. I'll burn you to a crisp."

"Stop it. Now," Ethan stepped in between them, ready to disable their powers if he needed. He looked from one mask of anger to the other before saying, "This isn't getting us anywhere. If we're going to find Cain, we've got to work together."

Vincent rolled his eyes. "Tch. Whatever, team leader." With flick of his wrist, the flames disappeared, and giving them all a scathing glare, he spun on his heel and stormed out of the room.

"Satisfied?" Ethan directed towards Michael.

His own powers dissipating, he sat back down on the bed. "Don't give me that, Ethan. Someone's got to keep him in check…by force if necessary. If you're not going to do it—"

"Cain wouldn't believe his ears. And frankly, neither do I. When did you decide to stoop to his level?"

Michael met his challenging gaze. "So it's my fault that Vincent's been down my throat? And the one time I actually decide to not take his crap, I get lectured? By you?"

"Yes, by me," Ethan replied. He softened his tone, "Mike, this isn't like you. You're the levelheaded one. You share command of this team with me. This thing with you and Vincent—something's got to give."

Michael sighed heavily and closed his eyes. "This Cain thing is just really getting to me. He disappeared right under my nose. And Vincent may be right—if I had been better, Dr. Cain wouldn't be gone."

"That's not true, and you know it," Kiana quickly interjected. She sat forward, placing a gentle hand on Michael's knee. "Fate and destiny. They are two aspects of our lives that sometimes are out of our control. Dr. Cain is a smart man. He knew the danger he was in, and he knew the danger we were in. He took measures to ensure our safety, and I'm sure he's done the same for himself. If Cain didn't want you directly involved, there's nothing you could have done to change the outcome."

Michael wished Kiana's words gave him some hint of comfort, but they didn't. He attempted a smile, but failed miserably. "I just don't understand what's going on."

Ethan crossed his arms and smiled. "Well, that's why we're taking a trip to Dr. Cain's house. You've got the address. We'll get one of the students to navigate us from here, and we'll check it out." He beamed at Kiana and Michael, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

"Ethan," Kiana replied, "I don't know if that's a good idea. We may not be the only ones interested in Dr. Cain's residence."

"Even more reason to go. If we happen to catch someone there, maybe that will get us a step closer to figuring out what happened to Dr. Cain. And right now, we really don't have any thing else to go off of. Mike, you in?"

Michael nodded absently. "Yeah. It's the best starting point we have right now. I need to get some fresh air anyways."

"Well, give me a sec. I'll talk to Ms. Frost real quick, grab one of the others and we'll go."

Without waiting for another word, Ethan left.

"Mikey, is everything okay?" Kiana asked as silence filled the room after Ethan's abrupt departure.

He wished that he could tell her about the strange spikes in power he had been having lately. Or about the fact that the situation with Vincent was wearing him down. Or about the fact that he wasn't entirely comfortable with the whole situation and being under the care of complete strangers.

Instead, he simply answered, "Yeah…I'm okay."

Kiana left it alone, but something told her that Michael wasn't simply okay.

V.

Paige peeked around the corner of the door, a pensive look on her face. "Hey, Jono. Mind if I come in?"

_"Uhh…sure,"_ Jono hesitantly replied, making Paige feel a little awkward.

Stunned by his response, Paige asked, "Are you busy? I mean, if you are, I can come back later."

_"Nah. It's cool,"_ he replied without much enthusiasm.

Despite being with her sick mother, Paige would think of Jono every night before she went to bed, pining for the time when she could return to the school to see him again. His expressive brown eyes. That smile hidden behind his scarf. But when she actually did see him, he acted so cold towards her. She thought he would have been a little more excited to see her. But now, as she thought back, Jono wasn't the same as when she left. And the more she thought about it, the more Paige began to think that she had done something.

But that didn't make sense. Jono was the one that said he would wait for her to come back. He said that he…loved her. Well, not necessarily _said_. He burned a heart in a napkin, courtesy of the fiery energies rippling behind his scarf. Regardless, she knew what he meant. Or did she?

She stepped into Jono's room but decided to keep her distance. She cleared some books off the chair near the door and sat down, almost feeling like an unwelcome stranger. Her heart pounded through her chest in anticipation of what she was about to say.

"Jono," Paige finally broke the awkward silence, "I know that things have been hard. And there have been a lot of changes here at the school as well. But this—us—it's something that should stay the same. I want it to stay the same. But since I got back, you've been…different. I—I just want to know where I stand with you."

_"What do you mean?"_

He was stalling. She has asked the question clearly, of that Paige was certain. But his gaze shifted, and he suddenly eyed a pile of clothing that had probably been there since he first moved down here.

Paige tried to suppress her annoyance with having to explain. "Jono, I only wanted to know whether you still feel the same way. Do you want to be in a relationship with me?"

Jono's eyes spoke volumes, which was beneficial most of the time. But for Paige, she didn't want to see what his eyes were showing her. And when he spoke, it only solidified the growing fear in the pit of her stomach. Paige realized that she wasn't prepared for this. Not here. Not now. But she was too far in to back away now.

_"I don't know what I want,"_ Jono said. _"I mean, I just…everything's goin' on an' I just…I don't know."_

_You don't know?!_ Paige wanted to scream. How could he _not_ know?! As far back as she could remember, there was this thing between them—an attraction that they danced around for months on end. And now that she was ready to share her feelings with him, he suddenly _didn't know_.

She felt the familiar hot sting of tears, but quickly blinked them away. No, she couldn't cry…not here. Not now. Not in front of Jono.

"What are you trying to say?" though she desperately tried to keep her voice level, Paige's words came out shaky, a raspy near-whisper.

_"Maybe we should jus'…I don't know…maybe jus' take some time out. I mean, jus' some time to figure out what I…what we want…how this is going to work." _

Paige's mouth opened, yet sound refused to come out. She was stricken speechless—after she had decided to give a relationship with Jono a try, he turned around and simply discarded it like a piece of trash. And on top of that, he couldn't even just be straight with her…he was still beating around the bush!

Jono stood and began to approach Paige. _"Listen, I just—"_

"No." Paige held up a hand that stopped him dead in his tracks. "Don't—" she spun on her heel and without a second look, bolted out of his room. Jono stared after her, even after he heard her footsteps disappear up the stairs, leaving Jono alone with the silence.

_"Paige, I'm sorry,"_ he murmured, but there was no one there to hear him.

VI.

_Boys are stupid,_ Paige childishly told herself. She could feel tears burning at the corners of her eyes, but she willed them not to fall. It had been years since she had cried over a boy, and back then, she swore not to cry again. But here she was, sitting on the stairs, doing her best to stop the tears from falling.

_How could Jono be so…so…_

She clenched her fists, unable to find the proper words to describe Jono's behavior. For months and months, they toptoed around their feelings for each other, and at the slightest hint of getting serious, Jono suddenly recoiled. Paige clenched her eyes closed—all she wanted to do right now was scream out in frustration.

She heard footsteps above her then they moved onto the stairs. _Can't let anyone see me like this,_ she told herself as she dragged a hand across her eyes and sniffled quietly. Paige hoped that rapid blinking would clear her eyes and the cool air would erase the redness in her face that she felt.

"Paige?" Ethan said as he circled her then sat down next to her.

"My allergies are getting to me," she gave a half-laugh, mostly at herself for lying without a second thought. But there was no way she was going to allow herself to appear so vulnerable in front of one of the new students. Taking a deep breath, Paige continued to fight the urge to burst into tears.

Ethan knew that she had been crying. He heard from the top of the stairs, and now, seeing her face, he could tell that something was wrong. Immediately, he wanted to console her and tell her that he could make everything right. But he could tell that she just needed to figure it out on her own, so Ethan repressed his own feelings and pretended not to notice her tears.

"Yeah, allergies can get pretty bad in the late summer. But maybe a change of scenery will help."

Paige shrugged, staring at her shoes. "I don't think I'm going anywhere, not like this. I mean, with my allergies and all." She tried to smile through her sullen expression but failed miserably. "Where are you planning to go?"

"We're going to Dr. Cain's house. It's the best place to start to figure out where he is. I don't know the area too well, and since you've been here for a while, you'd be able to give us a little sense of direction."

Taking a deep breath, she smiled, genuinely this time. At first, she was going to politely decline, but when she looked up and saw Jono standing in the shadows of the hallway, she made up her mind. "Are we leaving in the next few minutes?"

"Yeah. I've got to grab Kiana and Mike."

"I'll meet you at the car," Paige said. She stood, and shooting Jono an unforgiving glare, stormed out of the house.

Ethan saw Jono cast him an unfriendly glance before turning away, disappearing into the darkened hallway.

_What did I just get myself in the middle of?_ he asked himself. Then a sly smile crossed his lips, as he bounded up the stairs, calling for Michael and Kiana.

VII.

Ethan parked the RX-8 down the street from the address Michael gave him, 651 LaNiege Drive, and the four teens from the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters climbed out, surveying the area.

"I don't think I've been to this neighborhood before," Paige mentioned as she glanced around, completely taken by the picturesque neighborhood. _This would be a perfect place to settle down_, she thought, then caught herself. _Settle down? Come on…you can't even keep a steady boyfriend._

The feeling of rejection and hurt were still fresh, and though she presumed a trip with the others would help, her mind kept replaying the events over and over.

Michael said, "Elmwood Grove. Seems like there's a lot of nice houses in the area. I saw a few back there that were pretty nice." He led the way back down the street then crossed, ending up in a maintained, sizable yard with a large oak tree in the front. In the background, a Victorian-style, two-story house loomed over them. "This is it…Dr. Cain's house."

"Wow. I didn't realize he had such a nice place," Kiana marveled as they neared the porch.

"Yeah. I figured he lived at the Corporation," commented Ethan.

Michael tried the front door—surprisingly, it was unlocked. He looked back at the others before opening it carefully and slowly. The curtains were drawn inside the house, restricting the setting sun's rays from penetrating the ever-growing shadows. He stepped in gingerly, half-expecting Dr. Cain to come down the steps and greet them. But once they were inside with the door closed behind them, they were surrounded by an uncomfortable silence.

Despite the strange atmosphere, he was floored by the eclectic collection of artifacts placed throughout the living and dining room, meshing well with the dark furniture. "Nice place," Michael whispered.

"Dr. Cain!" Ethan called.

"What are you doing?!" Michael sharply asked.

"I had to make sure he wasn't here. Besides, why are you whispering?"

"Because it's quiet. What if someone's still here? They could be hiding anywhere."

"You would've felt them, right? Isn't that what you do? Besides, there's not a high chance that someone would still be lingering here. Especially if Dr. Cain sent the message a few days ago," Ethan replied.

"Look, I'm not that good with my powers. You know that. It's kind of spotty, even though I've been working on it. If the person is a psychic themselves, I have trouble feeling them."

"We can't be too careful," Paige warned. Too many times had she and her friends been caught off-guard because they didn't expect the worse-case scenario. She, at least, had learned her lesson and tried to be the cautious one. She was relieved to hear that Michael seemed to share her worrisome nature.

"Looks like there was a pretty significant fight here," Kiana said, motioning to the two halve of a couch on the floor. She studied it for a moment, then said, "It could have been a sword or something else that was extremely keen—you can tell from the clean cut."

Michael didn't like the sound of that at all. He wasn't sure whether Dr. Cain was doing the cutting or someone else, much more dangerous and skilled. Either way a fight ensued. And judging from the information that they currently had, Dr. Cain may not have fared well.

"Check this out," Ethan kneeled by a healthy pile of shards of wood. "Whatever it is, it looks like it just exploded." Frowning, he stood and said, "We'll cover ground much faster if we split up. I'll take the second floor."

Even before Paige knew she was saying it, she said, "I'll go with you." Immediately, she blushed, hoping that he didn't think she was just trying to tag along for some other reason than to simply help.

Fortunately, Ethan didn't seem to have taken it that way. He gave Paige a broad smile, then said, "Cool. You can lead the way."

"Check for his office up there," Michael suggested. "I don't see a computer or anything down here. There may be something useful on it."

Ethan nodded. "Got it. Paige, are you good with computers?"

"I'm not the type to brag on myself. But I've been known to be reasonably good."

"That means you're way better than me. If we find a computer, it's all yours."

Ethan and Paige took the stairs carefully then disappeared into the upstairs hallway.

"Is Ethan flirting with her?" asked Kiana once Paige and Ethan were out of earshot.

Michael shrugged nonchalantly, as he tried to recall the few times he had seen them together. But nothing immediately came to his mind that screamed flirting. "I don't know."

"Aren't you psychic?"

"I just don't go around reading people's minds. There's a bit of ethics involved with being a telepath. And I have self-discipline."

"Well, just so you know, he's totally flirting with her."

Michael frowned. "But isn't she kind of involved with Jono?"

"The guy with half a face?" Kiana made a disgusted face. "How would she even kiss him?"

He thought for a moment. "Good question. I don't care that much to find out though."

Kiana laughed. "Yeah, you're right. Hey, look at this," she said, running her hand along the wall. Michael drew close behind her and peered over her shoulder. At first, he couldn't tell what she saw, but when she moved her hand, Michael spotted three stab marks in the wall.

"Trent Arminthorpe," he mumbled. The holes were just the right size, fitting the points of his psionic blades. Michael glanced around for more evidence as he stated, "Lucas was probably here too then. And if that's the case, then it's possible that the Corporation has something to do with Dr. Cain's disappearance."

It was something neither one of them wanted to think about, but the more clues they found, the more it led them to believe that Dr. Cain had been attacked and possibly abducted. The message to Xavier's would have been his last-ditch attempt to save them from a similar fate.

"These could have been made by anyone with throwing knives. How can you be so sure?"

"How can you not?"

Michael's eyes stopped on a small, flickering red light next on a cordless phone. He strode across the room, and found that the flashing light indicated new voice messages. "Hey, Kiana, Paige, Ethan! I think we may have something here!"

Ethan and Paige bounded down the stairs, and then they were all circled around the phone. Michael pushed the play button, and as they listened, the apprehension in the air grew.

_"Saturday, 11:01 PM. They're making their move. I don't know where you are, but you've got to lay low. I'll do what I can from my end, but if they get to you…just get out of town tonight. Contact me when you get to a safe place. Beep."_

_ "Saturday, 11:32 PM. Niles, if I don't hear from you by noon tomorrow, I'm going to find Michael Lawson. I know you don't want me to get involved, but at this point, it really doesn't matter. I've got a lot of resources, and I think that there's a place here in Snow Valley that can help. I'm getting worried, so call when you get this. Beep." _

Michael snapped his fingers. "That voice…I recognize it. Graylon Walsh, a student reporter working for the local news channel. He's always making reports on Xavier's. But how and why does he know Dr. Cain?"

"Graylon Walsh…" Ethan recalled his first introduction to him. "Maybe this is why he was looking for you."

"Looking for me?" Michael repeated.

"When I first got to Snow Valley, I went to your apartment, where I met him. Coincidentally, we were both looking for you. He said he didn't know you, but he knew things about us that he shouldn't have."

Michael absently rubbed his chin, feeling like there were more pieces being added to the puzzle, yet the full picture was still obscure and blurry. "Did you guys find anything upstairs?"

Paige nodded, pulling what looked like an iPod out of her pocket. "I think there might be some useful information on his hard drive. It was encrypted, but I think we can use Cerebra to access the information. I copied the entire hard drive to my X-Drive."

Michael stared at the iPod device Paige was referring to. "Your X-Drive? It's the size of an iPod! His entire hard drive couldn't have fit on that."

Paige grinned, glad to showcase one of the nifty computer devices Forge had given her. "This bad boy has the capacity of an external hard drive. One hundred terabytes. I downloaded his hard drive in about six point one six seconds."

"With that little thing?!"

"Having the X-Men as your big brother definitely has its benefits," Paige winked.

"Let me guess…it's another state-of-the-art alien technology," Michael rolled his eyes, remembering the explanation Jono gave him for the mysterious supercomputer hidden within the school.

"How did you know?" Paige genuinely asked.

Michael sighed heavily. "You X-People and your weird gadgets."

Kiana said, "There's another door down the hallway. I think it leads to the basement. We may find something else down there."

Quietly maneuvering through the house, they stopped at the top of the stairs leading down to the basement. Ethan flipped the light switch to his left, but nothing happened. "Anybody got a light?" he asked.

"It's not like there are monsters down there," Kiana said. "Our eyes will adjust once we go down."

Ethan reluctantly started down the old wooden steps followed closely by Paige, Michael, then Kiana. They reached the bottom of the stairs, but the light from the open door above failed to reach any part of the basement, so they found themselves swimming in darkness.

"I don't think my eyes are adjusting very well," Michael said.

"This darkness…it isn't natural," Kiana said.

"Demon Lancer!" a female voice called from the darkness.

"Everyone get back!" Kiana pushed to the front, holding her hand out in front, she shouted, "Spirits of all that is holy and divine, protect us from the foul creatures of darkness!" A spectacular radius of light surrounded them, and the horrendous monstrosities were disintegrated on contact.

Kiana willed the shield away, desperately searching for their attacker. The dark shadows swirled, obviously hiding something in their eternal darkness. Kiana closed her eyes and raised her hands in the air. "Let the brilliant luminescence of your glory cut through the shadows of evil!"

A speck of shining light appeared in her hands and then in a flash, the entire room was illuminated, the teeming shadows cast away. Kiana gasped after getting a clear view of their attacker. "Mina Laroché?! What are you doing here?"

The girl stood unabashed on the opposite end of the basement. Dressed in all black, which included a three-quarters length jacket over a halter top, matching pants and boots, and a choker, Mina looked as though she had stepped out of a music video. Yet, there was something utterly sinister behind her gray eyes.

"You know her?" Ethan asked, surprised.

Acknowledging Kiana's question, Mina flicked her deep violet hair behind her and placed her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes. "Well, I didn't expect you to be here, Kiana Asahara. But I don't have time to play good guy-bad guy with you—I have a job to do. Get in my way, and you and your friends will regret it."

Kiana's brows furrowed. "I don't know why you're here, but I'm only going to ask once—leave this place."

"And if I don't?"

Kiana held her hand out to the side, and a sword erupted, point first out of her palm. As it shot out, she grasped the handle then pointed at Mina. "I, Kiana Asahara, of the Asahara clan will soundly defeat you."

A haughty, annoying laugh erupted from Mina. "Oh, Kiana, you always were the one for theatrics. But no matter how confident you sound, you're no match for me."

"I'll stop you here and now!" Kiana charged forward, ignoring Paige's protest. She closed in quickly, then lashed out with her sword, but hit nothing. Surprised, Kiana scanned the room, and found Mina on the opposite side of the room.

"Much too slow, Kiana. Maybe you need a little more motivation to fight harder." Mina's eyes turned a deep crimson as she chanted in a voice no longer her own.

Kiana took a step forward and heard something burst through the floor. She looked down in time to see a rotted hand grab her ankle. Hued with dark greens and browns, bits of skin and gore dangled from the fingers, leaving deteriorated bone exposed. Though the hands appeared to be frail and old, their grip was firm, and she couldn't simply pull away.

Raising the Matsumura Sword into the air, she brought it down mercilessly, severing the hand from its equally rotted arm. The arm shrunk back into the concrete as if it were liquid as the separated hand simply crumbled to dust, but almost immediately, two more hands shot up out of the floor and grasped her ankles.

Kiana gasped as she was thrown off balance, and let out a horrified scream when she fell to the ground.

"Kiana!" Paige called. If they didn't get to Kiana in time, the hands would surely overtake her, dragging her down into some nightmarish world of torture and screams. Acting on pure instinct, she bolted forward, her sneakers thudding across the concrete floor.

"Stay back!" Kiana struggled to get the words out as more hands grabbed her and she attempted to writhe out of their grasp.

Focused on saving her, Paige sprinted toward her, Ethan and Michael close behind her. she was already formulating a plan to take down Mina, until she the floor shifted, and suddenly, hands were pulling her downward. Instead of falling, she found herself sinking.

"No!" she desperately screamed. At least ten hands were pulling at her calves, then her knees, then her thighs. _I'm being pulled down!_ Panic surged as she felt the groping hands through her jeans.

Ethan had to blink twice to understand that he really was witnessing what he was seeing—Paige was being pulled into the concrete floor by a multitude of rotting hands. "Paige!" he yelled he dashed toward her.

She twisted towards his voice. "Ethan!" Paige struggled even harder, afraid that if he came close, he would just fall victim to the same trap. "Don't worry about me," she yelled between grunts.

Mina let out a sadistic laugh. "She's right. You're girlfriend's a goner, and you're next. A shame though…you're kind of cute."

"Like hell," Ethan said. He dove forward and wrapped his arms around Paige. They continued to tumble, pulling Paige free of the hands' grasp. Ethan and Paige rolled to a stop, quickly scrambling to their feet. Ethan saw Kiana cutting off the last hand, having set herself free while Michael engaged Mina.

"I'll finish you three off in one fell swoop," Mina threatened.

"You forgot about me!" Michael said to Mina, drawing her attention away from Ethan, Paige, and Kiana. With her powers being unpredictable, he thought that he had the best shot next to Kiana of taking her on. But he quickly found that he was no match for her.

Michael breathed deeply then tensed, focusing his energy into his head, preparing to unleash a psychic blast. A powerful, focused psi-blast, as he called it, would overload her thought processes while at the same time, send synapses all throughout her body at once. The end result—unconsciousness.

His eyes glowing hot blue, Michael grunted as he unleashed the attack. The light around them bent slightly, the only indication of psychic energy being used. Mina gave a wicked smile as her eyes flashed, and he barely had time to react as his formidable attack was reflected back on him, hitting him forcefully. He was thrown off his feet and hit the ground several paces behind where he stood before.

Barely able to breathe, Michael was thankful he had put up some kind of psi-shield along with a telekinetic force field. Otherwise, he would have been knocked out himself. The feedback from blocking a psi-attack was debilitating—his head throbbed and he could barely see straight.

Feeling something wet and warm, Michael brought his fingers to his nose. _A nosebleed?_ He could taste the coppery warmth in his mouth as well. The sight of blood helped him focus as he stood, using his telekinesis to keep from looking unsteady, though his equilibrium was still off.

"You're no match for me," Mina taunted.

"We'll see about that," Michael said as the loose objects in the room, ranging from small boxes to large, metal shelves, began to move. Every object suddenly flew in Mina's direction, creating a ruckus of shattering and clanging objects.

"How adorable," Mina whispered in his ear, having somehow dodged the flying objects and having traveled across the room unseen in barely a fraction of a second. She felt him tense under her touch as she caressed his smooth jawline and rested her other hand on his shoulder.

_I can't feel her at all,_ Michael thought. She moved way too fast for his telekinesis, and he was no match against her psychically—he realized that they were in a desperate battle, and if they didn't turn things around quick, they were as good as dead.

"May the divine wrath of my blade pierce your soul!" Kiana called out as she pointed her sword at their opponent. A single beam of light poured from the tip, barely missing Mina as she dodged the attack and in the process, let Michael go.

Mina gave an amused grin, but something above seemed to have attracted her attention. "It seems that I have spent too long toying with you all. Be thankful, you managed to foil my mission and live. Our paths will cross again, but I can guarantee, you won't survive the experience." A circle of fire ignited around her then grew into and enclosure of fire. Suddenly, the fire collapsed in on itself, and nothing was left where Mina was standing, save a wisp of smoke and the smell of rotting flesh.

"She's gone!" Paige announced.

Before they could assess what happened, the door above flew open and hurried footsteps shook the stairs. Suddenly, the four teens were surrounded by armed men.

"Freeze! S.V.P.D.!"

VIII.

The night was unexpectedly cool as a continuous breeze shook small trees and shrubbery. Ethan, Paige, Michael, and Kiana sat on the curb, waiting for Chief Dan Authier and the other three policeman on duty, Elias Raymond, Brad Withers, and James Holt. Chief Authier had instructed the kids to remain there, after they were escorted back out of the house.

Chief Authier told them that one of the neighbors, Mrs. Chancellor, was concerned when she saw a suspicious group of rambunctious teens enter the house without knocking. Though they protested, the Chief didn't seem to want to listen as he left them in the front. Luckily, the situation hadn't drawn too much attention—they had arrived in two unmarked police cars and were in civilian clothes. Therefore, the neighbors hadn't really given the scene a second thought. The usual onlookers were absent with the exception of Mrs. Chancellor, who peeked out of her window every so often.

"So, who was that girl?" Michael asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over the group.

Kiana answered, "Mina Laroché is a spellcaster, drawing her power from the Otherworld, an evil realm, which allows her to conjure demons and utilize dangerous black magic spells. The chants she uses are in an ancient, forbidden language commonly theorized to have been used by demons and their demon king at a time when they roamed the earth freely," explained Kiana.

"Of course!" Michael slapped his head in mock astonishment. "An evil demon spellcaster. That's exactly what we needed to run into. Where's Buffy when you need her?"

Ethan asked Kiana, "Is she working for the Corporation?"

"I don't know. I hope not. She's dangerous…deadly."

Paige rubbed her arms, recalling the unsavory touch of the groping hands as they impossibly dragged her into the concrete floor. She felt another pair of arms wrap around her and she looked up, into Ethan's smiling face.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah. I was so surprised at the whole situation, I wasn't thinking straight. I don't think I was any help."

"Whatever. You're not the one that almost got their head blown off," Michael said. He was angry at himself by being taken so easily and making nearly fatal mistakes. If Mina had wanted to seriously hurt him, Michael realized that they could be sitting in a hospital right now. Or worse.

Kiana kicked at a small rock on the ground and watched as it bounced halfway across the street. "I knew what we were up against, and I still…" she trailed off, staring at the street as if the entire scene was replaying in the concrete.

"Hey, stop it, all of you," Ethan said. "We're can't sit here and beat ourselves up. We didn't expect anyone to be here, and we got our asses handed to us. It sucks, but we're alive."

"Until Ms. Frost gets wind of this," Paige reminded Ethan.

They let out a collective sigh.

"So you kids mind telling me what happened?" Chief Authier approached from the house alone, the other three deputies appearing to be tending to the paperwork. "And Michael, I'm highly surprised to see you here."

Michael felt his face grow hot from embarrassment. "It's not what you're thinking, Chief Authier."

Chief Authier cocked an eyebrow. "So you can read my mind?"

_Yes_, Michael wanted to say, but instead he ignored the assumed rhetorical question. "The owner of the house is Dr. Niles Cain. We think that he may have disappeared two days ago, but we're not entirely sure. We thought if we came here, we would find him or at least a clue to where he is. But instead…" Michael trailed off, unsure of how to explain that a demonic priestess had soundly defeated them only to disappear into thin air.

Addressing all of the teens, Chief Authier said, "You realize that you've committed a slew of crimes: trespassing, breaking and entering, destruction of personal property, and disturbing the neighborhood."

"Chief! We weren't disturbing anyone—" Michael tried to explain, but a hand from Chief Authier silenced him.

"Ms. Chancellor said she heard commotion like people were fighting. She said it sounded as if there were a whirlwind inside of his house."

Michael realized that his attack against Mina was probably what Ms. Chancellor heard. He made a mental note to be a little stealthier with his powers. And he secretly chastised the old woman for being so damn nosy.

Paige attempted to reconcile the situation. "Chief Authier, sir, we didn't mean to cause a disturbance, and we definitely didn't intend to break any laws. We just wanted to find out what happened to the owner."

"And you ran into a little more than you bargained for?" Chief Authier suggested with a knowing tone.

Again, Michael had the distinct feeling that Chief Authier knew something that he wasn't supposed to know.

But before any of them could validate or deny his claim, he asked, "Do you have a car here?"

Ethan fished the keys out of his pocket and jingled them.

"I think we've got everything we need. You kids should head home. I know that you'll let Ms. Frost and Mr. Cassidy know what happened here tonight, right? Or do I need to call them and send in a report?"

Paige answered, "We'll tell them ourselves. Just please, don't write up a report."

"I'll let it go, but you kids need to be careful. I don't want to see any of you in trouble…you're all good kids. But, I can't keep ignoring blatant offenses like this. And you've got to watch yourselves…I don't want to see any of you hurt. We're the police, let us do our job. If the owner of this house is missing, come down to the station and make a formal report. I guarantee we'll do everything in our power to find him. Okay?"

"Yes, sir," they collectively replied.

"Now, you should go straight back to the school and get some sleep." Giving them a courteous nod, Chief Authier headed back to the house, leaving the foursome alone on the curb. Slowly, they stood and headed back to the RX-8.

"Guys, I'm convinced that Corporation is somehow behind this entire situation. And if we want to stand up against the Corporation, we're going to have to figure out how to use our powers more effectively. If someone like Mina can nearly defeat us, we're not going to stand a chance against anyone else," Michael said.

Paige replied, "Well, we're all on the same team, and we're going to help you find your mentor. We all have things to learn, and we'll learn them together. Then we'll take the fight to them."

Ethan shook his head. "You guys don't have to get involved. This is our problem."

"Yeah. _Our_ problem," Paige corrected. "You're not with the Corporation anymore, Ethan. All of you enrolled in Xavier's, and that means that you don't have to do anything by yourself anymore. We're a team…don't forget that."

"So that means we're going by the codenames now?" Kiana asked.

"And the team name."

"Generation X, huh? I think I can get used to this," Ethan smiled as they drove away, headed back to the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional

This chapter incorporates various elements from Generation X #46


	7. Generation Next

I.

The next morning, Ethan Sellenger, Paige Guthrie, Michael Lawson, and Kiana Asahara were seated in Emma's rather large office. Tom Corsi and Sean Cassidy were present, listening intently to Ethan's retelling of the circumstances surrounding their visit to Dr. Cain's house. The others would chime in if any details were missed, but for the most part, he had it covered. When the story was done, all three adults had concerned frowns on their faces.

"Yuir lucky th' lot o' ye weren't hurt," Sean said, sounding more like a reprimanding father than a chastising faculty member. His blue-green eyes scanning the students, he asked, "Ye must be careful when goin' out on yuir own. Especially with th' Corporation still after ye."

Kiana explained, "If anything, I think we may have stumbled on Mina doing her own investigation. If she were truly after us, she would've had a much better chance when we were separated. But when she realized I was there, I think she decided a fight was in order."

Emma nodded. "I have to admit that sounds quite plausible given the situation, which means the Corporation isn't nearly as organized or aggressive as I thought they would be. Sean has a valid point—you have to exercise extreme caution, especially when dealing with anything that may have to do with Dr. Cain or the Corporation. Now, let's talk about the episode with the police."

"Ms. Frost," Paige replied, "We weren't _trying_ to attract police attention. Luckily, Chief Authier was there, and he said that he wouldn't file a report as long as we came back and talked to you about what happened. But we were going to tell you anyways."

"I appreciate the honesty, Paige. Since you did find some clues, I'll let you tend to analyzing those with Cerebra. I would recommend keeping your investigations few and far in between until we can get a good idea of who our enemy is. That will be all."

The four teens rose and quickly exited the office, while Emma sat back, folding her hands across her body.

"A penny for your thoughts," Tom said.

"Things are already beginning to intensify, and I don't think they'll be slowing down anytime soon. I just hope that we can balance—" Emma stopped suddenly. "Oh hell. Of all times…the exact person I didn't want to come is here," Emma said seconds before the melodic chimes of the doorbell resounded through the school. "Tom, can you gather the kids in the gym, and give them a quick intro followed by a Danger Room session? Forge should be done with the installation by now. Sean, let's greet our guest with kind smiles and a warm heart," she said more for herself than him as a knot of dread formed in her stomach.

It was just yesterday that the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters acquired six new students, at the behest of Professor Charles Xavier himself. Springing into action, though reluctantly at first, Emma Frost and Sean Cassidy led their young charges to save the new recruits from a well-timed ambush. But slowly, they came to realize that the danger surrounding the new students had now spread to the members of Generation X.

In addition, the State Educational Standards Board recommendation still loomed overhead, after Ms. Pickwick, who was solely responsible for the recommendation, had a heart attack, triggered by her increasing shock and anger over the perceived disarray of a supposedly prestigious academic institution. Due to the efforts of the team, she made it to the hospital and they were able to treat her appropriately.

However, Emma suspected that the secret of the school was revealed since Ms. Pickwick was psychically connected to her and mentally witnessed the efforts that ultimately saved her life. Emma would have erased the memories but the board member's condition was much too fragile, so they simply waited for her to recover.

Obviously, they didn't have to wait long.

Sean made it to the front door and upon opening it, stared in surprise at the woman sitting in front of him. "Ms. Pickwick!" he exclaimed. Outside of being in a wheelchair and a young medical attendant behind her, Ms. Pickwick looked no different from before—a permanently stern expression, gray hair pulled into an angry bun, piercing dark eyes, and thin lips.

The older woman frowned. "Don't act so surprised. If I didn't know better, I would have presumed you folks would've written me off already. Trust me, you're not that lucky."

Sean gave a sheepish grin, trying to cover his tracks. "Ach! Ah was jus' surprised—pleasantly surprised—t' see ye!"

"Cut the malarkey, Cassidy," she snapped. "Mark, if you could, please wait in the vehicle. There's some business I must attend to here."

He shot Sean a snooty glare before responding, "With pleasure."

"Aren't you going to invite me in, or is that sort of thing a bit too old-fashioned?"

Sean attempted a hospitable smile. "M' apologies. Ah was jus' wonderin' how ye were farin' after what happened."

"I'm well enough to do my job, if that's what you're asking."

He stepped to the side as Ms. Pickwick wheeled herself inside then closed the door, making eye contact with Emma as she strolled down the stairs. _"Dinnae plan on leavin' me alone too long with th' lass,"_ Sean directed the thought at Emma.

_"Now, darling, do you really think I would do such a horrible thing?"_

_"Aye."_

Emma suppressed an amused smile. Closing the gap between them, her cold demeanor had already resurfaced as she coolly greeted their surprise guest. "Ms. Pickwick, what a surprise."

"Well, at least you don't hide your disgust like Cassidy here." She gave another curious glance around before continuing. "But despite what you may think of me, I'm here to complete the review of your school. I had to return because I seem to have caught a mild case of amnesia, which left me with some holes in my memory, mainly of my visit here."

"What a shame," Emma replied sarcastically.

Sean shot Emma an accusing glance. _"Yuir doin', Emma?"_ he projected his question, knowing she would pick it up telepathically.

Returning with a withering stare, Emma telepathically replied, _"Though I was tempted, I can't possibly take credit for it. There is such a thing as amnesia without it being induced by a psychic, Sean. Care to go for round two of false accusations?"_

_ "M' apologies, lass. But dinnae act too innocent. Ah know what yuir capable of."_

_ "So do I."_

"That being said," Ms. Pickwick continued, unaware of the psychic banter, "I would like to have another tour of your school. Maybe it will help jar my memory. If not, I'll just evaluate you based off what I see today."

Emma shuddered as she remembered the debacle of the last visit like it was yesterday (it had in fact only been a few days ago!). The old woman tore through their records they did have and lamented on the lack thereof so vehemently that she gave herself a heart attack. She prayed that today wasn't a repeat episode.

"I believe we can accommodate you, Ms. Pickwick. And at least there's a medic right outside this time," Emma said, offering a hospitable smile.

Sean circled around Ms. Pickwick and ignored her protests as he began to push her gently through the halls, following Emma. Realizing, she wasn't going to stop him from wheeling her through the school, Ms. Pickwick settled down and pulled a black notebook out of her bag. Almost immediately, she began to make annotations, noticing Sean trying to peek over her shoulder.

"Cassidy, if you're going to peek over my shoulder like a child—"

"Ach. Tis a bad habit. Keep writin', and Ah'll keep pushin'. Ye dinnae have t' worry about me."

Emma led them through the living room area, making a comment about the other common areas such as the kitchen, dining room, and computer room. She also mentioned the dorm rooms on the second floor, with the staff rooms on the first floor, for those that elected to live on the grounds. As she spoke, Jubilee, Angelo, and Rico dashed by, obviously late for the gym tour with Tom. Michael, Vanessa, and Paige were at the end of the hallway waiting for them, and they all disappeared into a doorway.

"I don't believe I remember so many students being here before. Of course if could just be my amnesia," Ms. Pickwick followed her statement with a hollow chuckle.

Emma explained, "Actually, we did have an increase of students, which can occur before the academic year starts. Despite what you may think, Xavier's is renowned for its rigorous academics and usually gets quite a few applicants even throughout the year. This school is younger than the Xavier's in New York, which is why we have such the small student body. In addition, the faculty is very selective about who attends here."

"I see. Well, remember that I can't exactly recall our tour from before. Please, take me through as if it was my first time," Ms. Pickwick said as she made a few more annotations. Emma found herself tempted to look but refrained from doing so.

"Agreed. One of the first things I want to address is the apparel. The faculty came to a consensus to allow the students to wear normal clothes within tasteful guidelines."

Ms. Pickwick nodded, scribbling another note in her black binder. "And I suppose as long as the dress code is enforced, uniforms aren't necessary. Though most private schools such as this do have uniforms."

Emma gave the woman a sideways glance. "Well, we're not exactly like other private schools."

"Obviously. Let's move on," Ms. Pickwick replied.

Sean kept moving forward, as Emma continued, "We're in the process of searching for an academic counselor as well, to assist the students with college prep and course selection. They will maintain proper academic records on each student to include outside transcripts. All of the students here are transfers."

"I wasn't aware of that before. Please, continue."

When Emma reached the end of the hallway, she opened the sliding door to allow Ms. Pickwick to view the gymnasium, where the students that had passed by earlier were currently encircling another faculty member. They watched as Tom gently demonstrated how to break out of a wrist hold.

"What do we have here? A self-defense class?" Ms. Pickwick critically asked.

"Just one of many mandatory physical education classes we have. The best institutions require such classes, and we are no different in that aspect. Mr. Tom Corsi, as a former policeman, has extensive hand-to-hand combat training as well as an instructor's license. He is currently finishing up a degree in sports medicine but has had years of experience under Dr. Moira MacTaggert."

"The famous geneticist? Not surprising," Ms. Pickwick murmured.

"Since most of the students arrived early, we're simply giving them an orientation to the classes they will have."

"This gymnasium is quite extraordinary considering the small amount of students."

"Professor Xavier believes in providing his students the best facilities to learn and grow in." Emma motioned for Sean to follow her out of the gym and down the hallway. "Because of the increase in the student body, we've expanded our classrooms from one to five, with a special class for our younger students. We want to focus on a small classroom size to enhance individual learning as well as more freedom for the instructor to address individual concerns and learning needs. All of our instructors will be commuting from the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning, most of which have advanced degrees in their field of expertise. Guest lecturers will ensure the material stays fresh and that the students don't grow bored."

"That's quite a novel idea," Ms. Pickwick complimented as she scribbled more annotations in her binder.

"I just want to reiterate that this school is a newly established academic institution, specifically established for college-bound students. The Xavier Institute for Higher Learning is more focused on adult students wishing to further their education. With that being the case, many of the normal administrative aspects of the school are still being established. I can assure you that the faculty members here are working overtime to ensure these processes are created and maintained. And we also are dedicated to giving these students the best education the nation can offer."

Ms. Pickwick cracked a smile for the first time since being there. "Well, you certainly _sound_ as if you know what you're doing."

Emma stopped and faced the woman. "Ms. Pickwick, I think I failed to impress upon you how important these students are for me. I had a group of students once, and due to circumstances I'd rather not discuss, I lost them. From that point on, I vowed to use every ounce of strength that I had to ensure no other kids had to even remotely face such challenges. These kids will have a chance to grow and live, and I'll go to great lengths to ensure their future isn't threatened."

Ms. Pickwick locked eyes with Emma. "I have no doubt in your resolve, Ms. Frost. I suspect that you could erase my memory right now just as easily as you eased the pain on the way to the hospital. But I would like for you to hear me out first."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "So you know."

The older woman smiled as she began her story. "At first, I thought I was hallucinating due to the pain and shock of the heart attack. But when Chief Authier came in to question me about the vaporized trailer of an overturned eighteen-wheeler, felled trees in a particularly odd pattern, a flying girl, a floating jeep, and an uncanny sense of doctor's premonition, which happened to occur in tandem with my arrival, I knew that what I had seen was quite real. I came to realize that there is more to this place than being just a school. Despite your attempts to keep the other part hidden, you risked not only your secret, but also your own safety in order to save my life. You and your faculty are much more than teachers—you are mentors, shapers for youths with unique attributes and challenges. Unlike other academic institutions, you teach ethics, morals, and values, something that will stay with them long after they forget the advanced calculus and MLA formatting."

"Ye really dinnae have amnesia, do ye?" Sean asked.

"No, I'm afraid lying is not something I'm particularly fond of or even good at," Ms. Pickwick admitted. They were all silent for a moment, then she announced, "Frost and Cassidy, I am giving your school the highest recommendation possible. And if you continue on the path you're on, Xavier's will become one of the top schools in the nation hands-down."

Emma, genuinely surprised, was almost speechless. "I don't know what to say."

"Well, Ah do…thank ye."

"These children's lives and futures are in your hands. You can thank me by not wasting it. Good day, Cassidy, Frost."

Mark suddenly appeared at the door, ready to take control of Ms. Pickwick's wheelchair. Sean stepped out of the orderly's way and let him wheel her out of the door. He closed the door behind them, feeling as if a heavy burden had been lifted off his shoulders.

"Aye. Ah'm glad that's over."

"So am I. Let's just hope that everything calms down a little bit so we can actually follow through. I would hate for that old cow to come back here and berate us again. If that happened, I probably would mind-wipe her without a second thought."

Sean let off an uneasy chuckle, unsure if Emma was joking or not.

II.

The gymnasium was actually more like a large athletic facility, with a weight room, aerobics room, and a gymnastics room attached. The basketball court was brightly lit with a high ceiling and a rather oddly-placed observation booth about twenty feet from the floor. But thinking about it logically, Michael couldn't exactly remember such a large gym being visible from the outside, though it should have been since it was near the front of the school.

Michael barely heard Tom explain that Sean and Emma were currently attending to Ms. Pickwick, a visitor from the State Educational Standards Board. But the hushed conversation that ensued from the older students told him it wasn't a normal visit. He listened intently as Everett, with interjections from Jubilee, quickly retold the circumstances surrounding Ms. Pickwick's first visit, which tied everything together for him.

Only a few days ago, he watched the news story on the situation, surmising that Graylon Walsh was simply exaggerating the story. But now, he saw that there was truth to what the reporter said and so much more.

Refocusing the conversation, Tom said, "It may not look it, but this is also your new Danger Room."

"So this is the fabled Danger Room?" asked Michael, not even attempting to hide his disappointment.

"I've gotta agree with Miguelito here. There's nothin' dangerous about this place. It's a gym," Angelo said.

Thoughtfully, Paige offered, "Well, maybe there are lasers and traps hidden in the walls. That's how the first Danger Room was—no technology at all, just simple gadgets that still tested the X-Men's powers in a less-than-friendly environment."

Tom smiled, surprised at the girl's knowledge. "Looks like you've been doing some research in the archives. What Paige said is true. The Danger started out as nothing more than normal traps and gadgets, but through the years, the Danger Room was upgraded with various technologies to provide a realistic, yet relatively safe training environment."

Michael frowned. "Let me guess—alien technology, right?" To him, it seemed that every piece of equipment in the place was some kind of mysterious alien technology, which for some reason annoyed him.

"Well, since you already seem to know, yes. But I'll let the designer explain that further."

Jubilee glanced around. "So we're takin' back to like the ol' school with booby traps? Great. Lemme get my record player out so we have some like tunes to jam to."

Before anyone else could comment, the ground erupted and a large mechanical monstrosity rose out of the chaos. Without a word, the Sentinel opened its hand, and an amber energy beam shot out, barely missing the group of teens. Then from both sides, similar Sentinels tore out of the ground and commenced to attacking the students.

"Dios! Sentinels!" Angelo yelled as the leapt out of the way, a laser barely missing him.

"What the hell is a Sentinel?!" Rico shouted above the explosions and laser blasts. It seemed that everything around them went from calm to hectic in a matter of seconds.

Everett immediately stepped into a leadership role, realizing the vast danger they were in. "Everybody, listen up. We've got to move fast. Vanguard, Skin, Lightwing, and Oracle, take Sentinel one from the left. Marvel, Husk, Chamber, you've got Sentinel two. Void, Helios, Gaia, M, take Sentinel three. Jubilee, Penance, Tempest, and I have got Sentinel four. Let the flyers distract the Sentinels, while the ground forces take out the arms and legs. The core processor's located in its head."

Though it was their first battle together, the teams worked efficiently, following Everett's directions with their own flair, ultimately defeating the four Sentinels within minutes.

"Now that was some amazing teamwork," a voice sounded from somewhere above them. An almost secret elevator descended from the control booth, and a man wearing the standard blue and gold X-Men training uniform stepped out. Tall, muscular, and broad shouldered, the dusky complexioned man smiled at the teens, despite the destruction surrounding them. And behind him, Tom stepped from the elevator as well, an approving expression on his face.

Not noticing Tom, Michael pointed an accusing finger at the man heading toward them. "Is this your doing?!"

Jubilee rolled her eyes. "Dude. You gotta chill out. He's totally not one of your Corporation goons. How's it goin', Forge?"

"Jubilee, it's been awhile. Ororo told me you had transferred down here. Are you enjoying it so far?"

Jubilee shrugged nonchalantly and replied, "It's cool." But a huge smiled erupted across her face, letting Forge know that she really was enjoying herself.

"For the rest of you that don't know him," Tom introduced, "This is Forge. And you can thank him for building your new Danger Room."

"Computer, end simulation," Forge commanded. Like a fading dream, the felled Sentinels and razed gym dissolved right before the students' eyes, morphing back into the immaculate gym that they were standing in only minutes ago, as if nothing had happened.

"Totally bad ass!" Rico marveled.

"Amazing," said Paige.

"Wait, Tom," Ethan suddenly interjected. "Weren't you in here with us when everything started?"

"Nah. It was a holographic image of me, courtesy of Forge."

"Cool!" Angelo grinned.

"It looked exactly like you!" Lily excitedly said.

Forge explained, "This room can generate solid holographic images, as well as an infinite landscape for training purposes. The simulations are run from the control booth up there," Forge pointed to the room. "Everything that happens in this room is programmed into the Danger Room computer, which is also linked to Cerebra."

Rico asked, "Seeing as how it's called the Danger Room, can we get hurt in here?"

Tom answered, "It's possible to get hurt in here, so I would advise that all of you treat this like the real thing. For our training sessions, the damage measurement will not be high, so essentially, getting hit with a car will like you were pushed to the ground by the school bully. However, none of you are authorized to use the Danger Room without supervision."

"Seems that everything's functioning properly. And I must say that I've had the chance to see a lot of teams interact on the battlefield, and what I just saw was one of the most cohesive, smoothest executions of orders with such a young group."

Tom added, "Considering this is your first time working out in the Danger Room together, I have to say I'm impressed too. So let's take a look at your performance from a strategic view. Everett, why did you split the team up the way you did?"

"They were Mark I Sentinels—limited mobility, ranged hand weapons, optical nodes sensitive to light, central processor located in its head. We have enough flyers to serve as a distraction, since the Mark I's can usually only manage one target at a time. The strong-arms of the group could take down the Sentinel, while the energy wielders could quickly destroy the central processor."

"Commendable, Everett. Now, who can point out a flaw in that plan?"

Monet immediately replied, "The execution was uncertain to say the least, considering we've never fought together before. We do not know the full scope of each other's abilities nor the manner in which others are proficient in wielding them. The foremost assumption made was that each member could utilize his or her powers to a sufficient level to subdue the threat, thus making the plan a success."

"Good observation, Monet. Any others?"

"It seems like we only addressed the immediate threat," Ethan observed. "Instead of all of us engaging, we could have split into two teams—one to actively engage the Sentinels and the other as back-up or a rescue squad for any bystanders."

Tom nodded in agreement. "Ethan, glad to see you're thinking outside the box. There are times when the immediate threat isn't the greatest one. You always have to be aware of what's going on both in the battle and outside the battle. Any questions?"

Gaia raised her hand, as she had seen others do. When Tom motioned to her, she cleared her throat and asked, "Is something like that really going to happen though? I mean, giant automated machines tearing out of the ground? We're not really going to be attacked in such a manner, right?"

"As Emma said, we're definitely out of the superhero business, but the fact that you're mutants makes you a target by humans and other mutants alike. There's no telling when and where an attack can occur and most will be unannounced, unorthodox attacks. Reactions minimizing collateral damage, protecting innocent bystanders, and protecting yourselves while subduing the aggressor should be like second nature."

Tom had an immediate flashback to his time with the police force. There, he was in charge of training the newest recruits for duty on the streets and used many of the same terms with them. _Remember Tom, these are just kids,_ he told himself. However, the danger they faced was mortal, regardless of age, and in this capacity, Tom felt he had the responsibility to ensure that they had the skills needed to survive.

He continued, "I'll be your combat skills instructor. I'll send out an e-mail with the syllabus. Every week, you'll have a different battle scenario to analyze, as well as evaluations within the Danger Room. This will also double as your physical education block, so you can workout during the second hour of class. This will probably be the only class that you'll have together, so take advantage of each others strengths and help your classmates when they need it. Any other questions?"

Vanessa asked, "Should we wear workout clothes then?"

"Glad you mentioned that. Emma ordered new training uniforms for all of you. I'm sure they're from the super-secret manufacturer of superhero costumes, so they'll probably have built in body temperature regulators, impact shielding, and molecular adaptation to your specific mutant abilities."

"We're getting X-Men uniforms!" Rico excitedly whispered to Vanessa.

"So we're ditchin' the red an' yellow?" Angelo asked, secretly rejoicing.

"Looks like it. I think she went with a dark red and black combo. A little more subtle than the old uniforms. She ordered plenty of different styles, so you can mix and match whatever combo you like, but you will report to his class in uniform. Only this class. Your academic classes will be in your normal street clothes."

Not missing a chance to make a comment aimed at Monet, Jubilee said, "Hmph. Like I don't think Miss Priss over here owns any street clothes."

Monet gave a weary sigh, rolling her eyes pompously. "You could only wish to have the fabrics and designs of Versace, Dolce and Gabbana, Armani, Christian Dior, Hermés, and Louis Vuitton, just to name a few, hanging from your rather lacking frame."

Jubilee's mouth fell open in shock. "Wait! Are you like calling me flat-chested?!"

Everett shook his head, rubbing his hand across his smooth crown. "I think the conversation took a wrong turn somewhere."

Kiana commented, "Personally, I was quite impressed with her knowledge of high-end fashion."

"She was simply listing her closet inventory," Paige clarified.

"Really!" Vanessa said, her eyes lighting up. She was well known amongst her peers for her keen eye for fashion, but really hadn't had anyone to really go shopping with. Someone like Monet would be a great shopping partner, if only Vanessa could get past Monet's attitude. "I do need to check out the latest fall fashions from Christian Dior and Donna Karan."

Clasping her hands, Monet smiled, her attention on Vanessa. "How refreshing it is to hear someone that understands and appreciates finer apparel. Anytime you want to accompany me on an excursion to New York's finest fashion boutiques, you may."

For a moment, Vanessa was pleased that she had made a connection with the most standoffish member of the team, but at the same time, Monet's offer wasn't exactly as nice as Vanessa would have hoped. In fact, she wasn't sure whether she should appreciate it or be upset.

"Thanks, I think," she said, still pondering over how she felt.

Jubilee was till fuming and said, "Hold up! Don't like flip the script on me that fast. Let's get back to you and me, Monet. I totally wanna know if you were like callin' me flat-chested!"

"If you want me to throw in my two cents, Jubes…" Angelo grinned as he winked at Jubilee.

Jubilee remembered Angelo's raid of her underwear drawer only a few days ago, and even more anger rushed to the surface. "Dude, one word an' you'll be like tastin' fireworks for days. Got it?!"

Tom felt a headache growing somewhere behind his eyes. _With these kids, who needs kids of their own_, he thought then smiled in spite of himself. Honestly, he did regard the wards of the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters as his own children in a way. And he found it amazing to watch them learn and grow as time progressed. But right now, the scene in front of him reminded him why he didn't have kids.

Raising his voice slightly, Tom said, "Okay, let's get back on track. The uniforms came in this morning, so Emma's got them on a rack in her office. All of you should head up there from here."

Lily smiled pleasantly. "Thank you, Mr. Corsi."

"Okay, last thing. In here, you guys can just call me Tom. None of this Mr. Corsi stuff. Deal?"

"Deal!" Angelo gave Tom a high-five.

"You guys are free to go. Remember, uniforms on Monday. And don't be late!" Tom called after the teens. But they were already chattering excitedly as they headed out of the Danger Room. Tom watched as they left, and noticed Forge chuckling.

"Sounds like a good bunch of kids. A bit energetic. And youthful. But good nonetheless," Forge commented. Like Tom, he didn't have children of his own, but seemed to gravitate towards the latest incarnation of the younger generation of X-Men. He had a flashback of the New Mutants, a diverse group of young mutants that took up residence at Xavier's.

"They are," Sean replied as he and Emma strode toward Forge and Tom. They had entered only moments after the students had exited the Danger Room and overheard Forge's assessment.

"So far," Emma added.

Tom shook his head, always amused at Emma's dry wit. Then, Tom realized they were without company. "How did the visit go?"

"After berating Sean and I, she claimed to have amnesia—"

Tom's mouth opened in an O of surprise. "Did you—?"

Emma crossed her arms in annoyance. "I will to the next person that asks me that. Now, if I could continue without any more asinine accusations. She claimed to not remember her last visit, so we gave her another tour. In the end, we discovered she remembered everything, but still gave us the highest rating."

"Without any mental manipulation," Sean gladly added, ignoring Emma's paralyzing stare. "Looks like we're staying open."

"Have you told the kids yet?"

"Not yet. I figured they're already brimming over with excitement over the Danger Room and the new uniforms. I don't want to send them completely over the edge. A school full of over-excited teens isn't exactly my cup of tea."

"Well, congratulations," Forge offered. "I can't imagine the challenges that come with running a school like this. It makes you wonder how Charles has done it all these years."

"I tend to wonder that every day," Emma replied.

"So, it sounds like th' lads love th' new Danger Room," Sean said to Forge. "Ah know it was kind o' short notice, but thank ye fer takin' the time out t' do this."

"No problem. It's been awhile since I've been able to do a project like this, so it was good for me too. And from the preliminary dry-run, it looks like everything is functioning properly. I'm actually heading up to extrapolate the battle data if you're interested."

Sean, Emma, and Tom followed Forge back to the well-hidden elevator, which whisked them up to the control room. Stepping into a room lined with monitors and consoles, with three large panel windows looking out into the gym, Sean and Emma marveled at the complicated equipment, all of which appeared foreign and much too complex for anyone who wasn't a genius to use.

"Ah shouldnae be surprised ye did this all in one day. But ye did some amazin' work, Forge."

Sighing loudly, Emma said, "Am I going to have to hire my own team of one-hundred pound heads to operate this equipment?"

Laughing, he said, "Not at all. Most of the consoles and controls are similar to the ones at the mansion, so anyone with experience should be able to operate it. I've already been showing Tom a few things, and it shouldn't take Sean too long to familiarize himself with it. One of these two fine operators can easily show you how to do it."

"On second thought, I'll stick to the finances. You guys stick to the technical stuff. Deal?"

"Works for me," Tom grinned.

"Aye."

"So what exactly are we seeing here?" Emma asked, perplexed by the various bar graphs and point charts on the screens.

He explained, "This is a chart mapping out the power output levels. Basically, it measures their internal processes when using their powers coupled with a measurement of the raw energy output. The system can manipulate the data in several ways, but here, the two measurements are mapped against each other. As you see, there's a correlation with the chemical changes and energy output. For those that don't have energy based powers, this doesn't necessarily apply. So for students like Paige, her internal processes measure higher than others."

Emma posed another question. "Why is the internal measurement so high for some of the students? Particularly, most of the psi students. Jono and Michael's measurements are off the charts."

"Well," Forge relied, "Hank has theorized that Jono may simply exist as pure psionic energy. But maybe due to his own mental limitations, he simply opts to remain in a physical form."

Sean's mouth opened in surprise. "Remain in a physical form? So yuir sayin' that th' lad could either exist without his body or simply rebuild his face and chest?"

Nodding in agreement, Forge said, "That's what Hank thinks, and that's what I think too. But he's so guilt ridden over the incident that crippled his girlfriend that on some level, he's probably choosing to remain that way. Or he just doesn't know how to reform himself."

Emma frowned. "We'll see about that. Jono's self-loathing and moping around is really getting old. What about Michael?"

"I don't know much about him," Forge admitted. "But I'm impressed by the level of psionic power he has at such a young age. He's only a few notches below people like Jean and the Professor."

"So I supposed that I'm chopped liver now?" Emma flatly said, cocking an eyebrow in disapproval.

Forge laughed. "Of course not. Sometimes, I forget that you're quite formidable yourself, Emma."

"Maybe regression to a five-year old girl will help you remember."

Sean placed a hand on Emma's shoulder. "Aye, lass. Ye get so cross so easily these days."

Emma sighed, realizing that her words came off much harsher than she meant. "My apologies. I suppose I haven't been sleeping well lately."

Sean made a mental note to ask her more about it later, but for now, he turned his attention back to Forge.

"There really wasn't anything else abnormal, but judging from old data, it looks like the older students' power levels are increasing. I still find it amazing that you have as many Alpha-level mutants here as you do—Jono, Michael, Everett, and Monet."

Emma said, "Tom, looks like you've got your work cut out for you."

"No problem. This is few more students than I thought I would have, but I'll make it work. I would recommend power specific training with the pros though."

"If I can drag them from halfway around the world," Emma rolled her eyes. "I'll propose the idea to Charles when we see him next, though I'm not necessarily looking forward to the spandex types tromping all around the school."

"Ach, lass. Ye still got somethin' against Jean, Bobby, Ororo, and Kitty?"

"More than just those four. But they are at the top of my list. That dead-alive again tart and the iceboy that never quite grew into a man. The holier than thou weather witch. And the ghostly brat that doesn't know the first thing about respecting her elders." Emma sighed heavily, heeling a headache forming behind her eyes from the thought of having to interact with any or all of them. "I suppose if it's for the betterment of the students, I should suck it up, as you would say, right, Sean?"

"Aye. Looks like yuir leanin'."

"Painfully so."

Forge laughed. "I'm sure the X-Men will be glad to help. And I'm always around if you need a sub as well."

"Ah thank ye, Forge. Th' Danger Room is impressive. I think th' students will get a lot o' trainin' accomplished."

"Always glad to help. Call me if you need anything at all."

After a few more minutes of small talk, Sean, Emma, and Tom walked Forge to the front door then he was gone.

III.

"That Danger Room was awesome!" Rico exclaimed as the Danger Room doors shut behind them. The students barely noticed Emma and Sean walk past them and enter the Danger Room just as they filed out.

Lily smiled. "I've never seen anything like that before."

"Psshht," Jubilee replied. "You haven't like scoped anything cool yet. When I was with the X-Men—"

Angelo and Jono groaned simultaneously, and Angelo quickly interjected, "Not another one of your stories. Nobody wants to hear—"

Rico's mouth was open in awe. "Whoa! You were with the X-Men?!"

Giving Angelo and Jono a smug glance, Jubilee turned her attention to Rico. "Well, I mean, since ya asked an' all, I was totally rollin' with the X-Men for a bit."

Angelo elbowed Rico playfully in the side. "Hombre, don't encourage her. She'll go on and on with her adventures with the X-Men."

"But I really want to hear this," he responded.

Vanessa shook her head. "Hey, everybody, aren't we supposed to be getting our training uniforms in Em—Ms. Frost's office?"

Everett said, "Yeah. Let's head up that way. By the way, everybody looked great in there. I think that's one of the best training sessions we've had in a while."

"I wish we could've done that last week against Mina Laroché," Kiana said.

"Did something happen?" Rico asked.

Michael answered. "We didn't want to tell everybody at once and get everyone alarmed, but we went to Dr. Cain's house. We as in Paige, Kiana, Ethan, and I. We found a few clues, but we ended up attacked by someone named Mina Laroché. Let's just say we didn't fare so well."

"You went to Dr. Cain's house?!" Vincent took an aggressive step towards Michael. "Why the hell didn't you tell me? With my flames—"

Michael silenced him with a look. "Don't give me that _if I had been there, I would have kicked her ass_. You're not that good. You could barely defend yourself against someone half your size. We're fully capable of investigating something without dragging everyone in the school along. If you expect to go on missions then you're attitude is going to straighten up, Vincent."

"Whoa. I didn't know ya had it like that, Mike. Here, I thought you like a push-over, nice guy," Jubilee commented.

"I don't think it's the right time, Jubilee," Paige warned.

"Shut up, you," Vincent shot towards Jubilee. Then to Michael, "And I'll take you on any day."

"Really?" Michael said, crossing his arms. "Then you're stupider than I thought. I outclass you in everyway possible, but you still think that you can act like an ass toward me, and I've had it—"

"Enough!" Ethan snapped. He gave Michael a chastising glance, but shot Vincent a glare he only used in the worst of situations.

Kiana said, "Really, Vince, you should cool down. Realistically, Mina's better than most of the people standing here right now. She's experienced, and she won't hesitate to take a life. Are you willing to do that?"

"If I have to. If someone stands in between Dr. Cain and I—"

Kiana shook her head. "I can see it in your eyes. You're not a killer. You wouldn't stand five minutes against her."

"Which is why I'm glad we're here," Ethan stated, hoping to calm the situation down. "Everett, I know that most of us are new, and I don't want any lines to be drawn between us. Dr. Cain is missing, and the way things are looking, we're not going to be able to rescue him on our own. I would like to ask for your help in helping to find him."

"Ethan, you don't have to ask something like that. Old students, new students, whatever—we're all one team. We support each other. We fight together. No questions asked."

Jubilee stepped in, waving her arms obnoxiously. "Like enough with the after-school special, heartwarming stuff, already. I've got dibs on the uniforms!"

The teens broke out in a mad rush for Emma's office, a feeling of warmth and togetherness binding them all.

IV.

As almost an afterthought, Emma mentioned to Sean, "I've got an interview this morning with someone interested in the butler position."

"Really? That seemed t' be fast."

Emma nodded in agreement. "I placed the ad last week after we spoke—" the doorbell chimed, cutting Emma's sentence short. "That may be him. It shouldn't take more than ten minutes. We'll give the children a little more time to rummage through the uniforms then meet them upstairs."

"Aye, Ah'll see ye in a few. Dinnae give th' lad too hard o' a time," Sean warned as he disappeared down the hallway leading to his own room.

Rolling her eyes and shaking her head, Emma strode toward the front door, unconsciously smoothing her slacks and low-cut blouse. Emma quickly opened the door and found a tall, lean gentleman standing in the doorway.

The older gentleman was dressed in stylish dark brown slacks with a matching tie and vest, a white button-down shirt, and a brown fedora. His dark, graying hair was combed straight back, not a single hair appearing out of place. His mustache and goatee were groomed nicely as well, giving his stern features an additional edge, and even through his clothes, Emma could tell he had a muscular frame. He carried himself confidently, yet with an unmistakable posture of someone that had seen a good share of combat.

"You must be Miss Frost. Good afternoon, I'm Robert Noble. I'm here for the job interview," he tipped his fedora and lowered his eyes courteously.

Emma smiled, already impressed by the gentleman's demeanor. "Welcome to the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters," Emma extended her slender hand, and Robert returned with a firm, but not overwhelming, handshake. "Please come in. We'll do the interview here in the living room." Emma stepped farther inside, letting Robert past before shutting the door.

As soon as Robert crossed the threshold of the doorway, he took off his hat and did a wide sweep of the school. "Miss Frost, I must commend you on the exquisite furnishings and décor. For a private school, such care has been given to the overall living accommodations."

"A keen eye for style, I see. Only souls such as you and I can truly appreciate items like this. To the kids and even some of the facility, there's no difference between imported furniture and the junk sold at Walmart."

Robert smiled in response as he followed Emma to the couches. He waited until she had sat down before taking a seat, placing his fedora and bag next to him.

"Mr. Noble—Robert—I have to apologize in advance. Classes start on Monday, and there are still several administrative tasks that I have to complete before then. So if you don't mind, I'm going to skip all the pleasantries and useless questions and get straight to the point."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he politely responded.

"As of now, we have seventeen students that live and attend school here. We're looking for someone to accomplish normal upkeep of the common areas, meal preparation, groceries, and any other related tasks that are necessary. The meal times will correlate with class times during the weekdays—weekends, you can set the meal schedule however you like, if you so choose. I would rather the kids not use you as a short-order chef, but I'll let you handle it as you see fit. We have several faculty members living on the grounds, myself included, so I can offer you the same opportunity, but with strict guidelines and conditions, which we can discuss if you accept the position. There is an on-site doctor, Cecelia Reyes, who will be taking up residence here as well. Transportation will be provided at no cost, but you have the option of taking your own. I think that covers the main aspects so far. Questions?"

"Not so far. As you said, it sounds straight-forward enough—cook and clean for the students and faculty. I am genuinely interested in the position, Miss Frost. But I have to wonder if the conditions and guidelines you spoke of have to do with the news stories about this school that tend to arise every now and again."

"I'm going to be honest with you, Mr. Noble. This is a school for young mutants to learn academically, as well as glean knowledge about their unique abilities, so they can be beneficial members to society. This isn't a mutant training camp or any other nonsense that the local media likes to drum up. We are private because people don't understand that, and I will not tolerate anyone endangering my students because of some unfounded prejudice or imagined danger."

"I completely understand. And if you'll have me, I would like to work in such a capacity for you and your school."

Emma gave a suspicious smile. "Forgive me for saying so, but it surprises me that a man of your stature and poise would simply work as a butler for a mutant training camp. Aside from that, you haven't asked about pay or benefits."

"Trust me, I have no secrets that will endanger your school, Miss Frost. But I have things in my past that are better left there."

"I can relate and understand. Trust is going to be of the utmost importance. I'm a psychic. I can read your mind easily, but I won't do that. I'm going to trust that your intentions are true and that you're intending to do the best job that you can. I don't expect anything that goes on here to go outside of the school grounds."

"I understand and appreciate your trust. So it's safe to say that I'm hired?" Robert asked.

"On a month-long probationary period. During that time, I'm going to evaluate how you fit in with the kids and the job that you do. At the end of that month, we'll meet and I'll give you feedback. But if you're not performing up to standards, we'll be meeting much sooner than that."

She stood, signaling the interview was over. "I'm usually not so spontaneous with such decisions, but something tells me that you're a good man. Please don't disappoint me."

Robert stood, taking his bag and fedora in hand. "Well, I hope that I can exceed your and the students' expectations. And I will take you up on your offer to stay on the grounds."

"Well, I can get you taken care of right away. Use tonight and tomorrow to get yourself settled then Monday, I'll expect you to be in the full swing of things, unless you tell me different. Besides, one of the students convinced me to give them a day out before classes started, so it will be a good time for you to take care of your business in the city."

Emma handed him a key and gave him quick directions to his room on the first floor then Robert departed, intending on retrieving his personal belongings. They parted ways, and Emma breathed a sigh of relief. Hiring him was much easier than she thought it would be, and she was glad that there was nothing even remotely suspicious about him. Still, she made a mental note to do a little research on Cerebra just in case.

_One task down, ninety-nine to go_, Emma said to herself.

IV.

"My outfit is totally kick ass!" Jubilee stated, admiring herself in the full length mirror behind Emma's office door. She adjusted the mid-drift jacket over a halter top, which showed off her well-defined abs and pierced belly button. The form fitting, almost spandex shorts ended right above her knee, with a thick, fastened belt dangling from the waistline. She decided on combat boots, which made the entire ensemble more edgy. To top it off, Jubilee placed black rimmed sunglasses with pink tented lens on her head.

"It suits you," Paige complimented, wearing a simple body suit with boots. She had chosen some wrist bands to accent her choice in uniform, but suddenly felt it wasn't enough as she studied Jubilee. Though Monet had a similar body suit, it seemed to match her personality—sleek, smooth, and flawless. The only noticeable difference was that Monet decided that she wanted gloves.

"I think Gaia's is pretty cool though," Vanessa commented.

Gaia had an asymmetrical top, one long sleeve and one short sleeve, which was cut high on her neck. She had a thick belt around her waist, and pants that disappeared seamlessly into boots. "Thank you for the compliment. Is it appropriate to give you one back?"

Vanessa looked puzzled. "Well, I mean, if you feel it's necessary. I'm not fishing for compliments or anything."

"Okay," Gaia said then turned away.

Paige, noticing Vanessa's confusion, explained, "She's still learning."

"That's the second time today that I don't know whether I should be mad or not."

"You get used to it. But you do look great."

Vanessa's low rise pants and high cut shirt showed off her toned abs as well, the shirt conforming to her athletic shape. Around her waist, a dangling chain belt swung languidly, while behind her, a cloak billowed in the cool breeze that floated in through the windows.

Rico made a disapproving face. "But why a cape? What superhero wears a cape?"

"Not a cape. A cloak. Big difference."

"Hood. No hood. I get it. You still didn't answer the question."

"Well, I'm sure there are still heroes out there that have cloaks and capes."

Jubilee said, "I totally agree with Rico Suave, it's kinda ol' school lookin'."

"I think it looks nice on you," Michael said in contrast. "It adds to your mysterious aura."

Vanessa smiled, embarrassed. "Oh. Thanks. I think…"

"Ooohh…Mike's got the hots for Vanessa," Jubilee poked.

"What?!" Michael felt the temperature in the room cascade to an unbearable heat. He felt the uniform compensate by circulating cooling air between his skin and the outfit. "Shut up!" he said, over-exaggerating his anger.

"Anyways, how does this look, Vanessa?" Kiana asked. She wore a vest, arm bracelets, gloves, figure-fitting pants that disappeared seamlessly into boots. A choker finished off the outfit.

"Good choice," Vanessa said.

"Yeah, you look pretty tough now," Rico grinned as he dodged a playful swipe.

"Well, I would give you the same compliment, but it seems your outfit is a combination of clothes you rolled out of bed and threw on," Kiana shot back.

Rico had on a long sleeved shirt with a dark red stripe up the sleeves, gloves, loose cargo pants that fell over combat boots. "Hey, you gotta wear what feels comfortable, right? Not like stuffy Mike over there."

Michael's tight-fitting, short sleeved shirt showed off the fact that he had been working out, trying to get to the same body size as Ethan. His pants also meshed seamlessly with his boots. His gloves had a dark maroon X on the backside, along with a small encircled X on the left side of his chest, and on his belt buckle.

"I am not stuffy!" Michael shot back, feigning anger.

Rico shrugged. "I'm just saying. I mean, Vinnie and Ange have the right idea."

Vincent wore an outfit similar to Rico's—a three-quarters sleeved top and cargo pants bloused over combat boots. Angelo wore a short sleeved t-shirt, skull cap with a dark red X in the front, cargo shorts, and combat boots.

"I think Mike and Ethan are going for the X-Model look," Rico joked.

Ethan gave Rico a withering glance. He wore a sleeveless shirt, showing off well-defined muscles, a tattoo on his right arm, wrist braces, and normal pants over boots.

_"You blokes are puttin' way too much effort into this,"_ Jono said. He looked as though he hadn't even changed. He donned a full body suit, along with a special part that covered the lower half of his face, and a long leather jacket. The dark red trim was the only thing that made it different from his normal clothes.

"Well, everyone should be comfortable in their training uniform," Everett said. He wore a full body suit, similar to his old uniform with boots and wrist braces.

"I think I'm okay with mine, and I think Yvette is too!" Lily said. She wore a top with flowing sleeves and an open back, fitting pants tucked into boots. Yvette crouched beside her in a full body suit, leaving only her head, hands, and feet exposed.

"If you kids are done playing fashion show…" Emma sauntered in the room, wearing a dazzling white outfit—long white opera gloves, white leather pants that disappeared seamlessly into white boots, a white belt and choker, and a white leather bodice. Her toned abs were exposed as well as a bit of upper chest as well, gaining the attention of both the boys and girls.

Sean had reverted back to his blue and gold basic X-Men training outfit, complete with the striped cape connected between his arms and legs.

"See, Ms. Frost and Mr. Cassidy both have capes. I'm definitely keeping the cloak," Vanessa whispered.

"Glad to see that most of you have some sense of taste and flair. These will be your training outfits, which Tom has instructed all of you to wear to his class only. These uniforms will not be worn to any of your other classes. When we are with you in the Danger Room, Sean and I will be wearing these uniforms, which double as our X-Men uniforms."

Rico slapped his head. "Of course! It totally makes sense. You and Mr. Cassidy both are X-Men. This is so cool!"

"Someone, please calm the fan-boy down," Emma rolled her eyes. "Now, just to ensure all of you are aware, Dr. Cecelia Reyes will be on-site full time for any medical concerns. I've just interviewed a gentleman who will be taking care of some of the housekeeping chores as well as meals."

"Like our own Mr. Belvedere!" Jubilee grinned.

"I fully expect the same courtesies shown to any faculty members on the campus to include the X-Men when they are on campus."

"The X-Men, here?!"

"If you persist in having an outburst every time someone mentions X-Men, I will completely shut down your ability to talk, Mr. Vidal. Understood?"

Rico nodded, barely able to swallow a sudden lump in his throat.

"These uniforms adapt molecularly to your specific abilities. So for instance, a hothead like Mr. Sellenger won't burn his uniform completely off when he's throwing around fireballs. And Paige dear, though you love the thrill of fighting naked, your uniform will shed with your skin and reform underneath, taking on the same molecular qualities as your skin."

Paige's face turned a deep red and she returned with a quieted, "Oh." Her powers allowed her to shed her outer form, which usually included her clothes, to a new form underneath. However, she could only generate the effect for her body and could not duplicate clothes. Though when in another form is wasn't obvious, Paige was actually fighting naked, and usually had someone with good timing to cover her before she reverted back. Paige couldn't remember anyone else really commenting on it until now.

"I've got no problemo with Paige here doin' a little nude samba with some baddies," Angelo grinned.

Paige, her face still burning, slapped his arm. "Not funny, Ange."

Jubilee slapped his other arm. "Way ta be a total perv! Again!"

Another hand smacked the back of his head. Angelo spun and saw Rico retracting his hand. "Oy! What was that for?"

Rico shrugged. "I don't know. Everyone else was hitting you so—"

"I'm sure Tom already mentioned the body temperature regulators and impact shielding. I know I shouldn't have to say this, but do not put these in the washer. They are self-cleaning and self-repairing, the technical details of which completely elude me."

"Man, I wish all clothes were like this," Angelo said.

"Though I hate to usher you out of my office, Sean and I have some business to tend to for the next few minutes."

After a few more words and nods of thanks, the students filed out of Emma's office. As the last one left, Emma gave a relieved sigh. She could relate to how Charles possibly felt throughout his tenure of managing the various schools. It felt like she had done a lifetime's worth of work and she still had more to do. Not to mention the arrival of the newest students, with their potentially dangerous powers, starkly different personalities, and enigmatic enemies.

She glanced up to see Sean beaming at her. "I take it you're enjoying this?"

"Lass, this is what we're here for. Th' new students didnae come here under th' best o' circumstances, but they're here an' th' lads want t' learn. An' it's our job t' teach. And with everythin' returnin' to a somewhat normal pace, we may be able t' do jus' that."

"Yeah, you're right," Emma said rubbing the back of her neck.

"You said you dinnae get any sleep. Is everythin' alright?"

"Not really. I didn't want to tell you until I was sure, but the funds that support the school are dwindling. I really can't figure out how, but right now, I don't think that we can keep the school open financially."

"Ach. First, th' school board, now this. But Ah thought th' school fell under Xavier's bottomless pot o' gold."

"It does, kind of. When I asked to take over this school, I also took over the financial responsibility for it. I created a separate account for the funds, which is aligned under the Byrne Company. So all the textbooks and school-related costs and taxes are paid out of that fund. But from what I can tell, either it's been overdrawn or someone has been filtering money out of it. But that's next to impossible. Only a few people at the Byrne Company have access to this account."

"Is it somethin' ye need me t' look into?"

"With school starting, an investigation would take time. I don't like this idea one bit, and I'm sure you're not either. But," Emma drew a deep breath, "I'm going to have to ask Adrienne for money for the time being."

Sean was lost. "Adrienne?"

Emma let out a deep, regretful sigh. "She's my older sister."

"You're right—I don't like the idea." He knew there was some type of complication to the situation. When Emma's younger sister, Cordelia, came on the scene, she brought nothing but trouble to the school. He had the distinct feeling that the same type of trouble was going to emerge.

"For the short-term, that's our only option. I can simply head to Boston tomorrow and talk to her in person. We need money quickly, and she's the only legitimate source I can go to. Of course, I can just use some of my methods—"

"No, there'll be none o' that. But when was th' last time ye talked t' th' lass?"

"Years. We—we're not that close."

"Ah dinnae like th' sound o' it, Emma. And Ah dinnae want ye puttin' yuirself in danger. Maybe Ah can work somethin' out." Sean rubbed his chin in deep thought.

"I don't like the idea of Adrienne being my backup plan, but I was caught off-guard by this. With everything going on, I just…"

"Dinnae worry yuir head about it. Let's jus' concentrate on what we can do t' help th' school. Let me see what Ah can do before ye ask Adrienne."

"I have to go to Boston anyways, so I'll just pitch the idea to her and see where it goes from there. I won't commit to anything. Sound fair?"

"Aye. We'll deal with th' rest tomorrow. Ye should get some rest tonight."

"Yeah. I just need to make a call to Cecelia, and I'm going to take it in early."

"Emma, we're doin' good here. Yuir doin' good here. Dinnae forget that."

"It gets hard, Sean. But I'll remember that. Thanks," she sincerely replied, though in her mind, she didn't feel as sure as Sean. And before the night was out, she would be making a decision that would totally contradict everything the school stood for.

V.

Emma went to bed that night still distressed over visiting her sister. She and her sisters had never been very close growing up, and when their powers developed, it distanced them farther. Cordelia only came to her when she was over her head in trouble, which usually meant trouble for Emma. Adrienne hadn't even spoken to her in years.

Both of them were successful business women, and actually, their two companies were rivals, Frost International and Meridian Incorporated. Both of the companies were well known throughout the business world.

Emma realized that she had changed. She was no longer the White Queen—she was finding her place as Emma Frost. No longer did she have to be ruthless and cutthroat to obtain what she desired. The school gave her what she thought she could never have again—a second chance.

Emma felt herself getting lost in the state just before sleep. Her eyes closed slowly, staying closed longer and longer until they didn't open again. Emma was sleep.

_"Emma,"_ a strange voice called out to her.

Startled at the new, yet somehow familiar rasp, Emma found herself surrounded by an infinite darkness. _"Who's there? Show yourself."_

A chuckle responded and the darkness melded together forming a figure—Nightmare. The background became a conglomeration of colors, an indescribable, ever-changing backdrop making everything surreal and disorienting.

_"Emma, oh how I have longed to see you again,"_ he walked closely, making an obvious show of smelling her neck, while tracing his bony fingers across her bare shoulder.

_"I thought that we were finished playing games," _Emma said, stepping out of his immediate reach as she spun to face him.

_"Am I not allowed to visit one of my favorite women sometime?"_

Emma snorted. _"I would rather you not come traipsing into my dreams like this. Besides, your visits usually aren't cordial. So spit it out, what do you want?"_

_"I know that you're thinking about going to see your sister, and let's just say that it will be the end of your school if you do. Just consider this another free gift from me."_

Emma was ready to reply, but suddenly everything around her buzzed and shook. She grasped her head as flashed of images erupted behind her eyelids.

_…Generation X being overcome by minions of Dark Beast…_

_ …Emma embroiled in a tense battle with the alternate universe mutant known as Nate Grey…_

_ …Artie trying to create an accurate picture to properly relay what happened, and Emma finally realizing that Artie's trying to tell her that Sean's been kidnapped…_

_ …Emma, with her hand around Adrienne's throat, pinning her against the wall and demanding the whereabouts of Generation X…_

_ …the students of Generation X inexplicably dressed in the Hellions' old training uniforms, alongside the X-Men who were also dressed in older uniforms. And just as things were calming down, Trevor Fitzroy suddenly appears, killing Jetstream. And it seems that history it about to repeat itself with the members of Generation X…_

_ …Jubilee, tears streaming down her face, staring numbly at her room as flames erupt from the doorway. On the walls surrounding it, she can see anti-mutant graffiti scrawled everywhere…_

_ …Everett racing down the hallway and a large explosion catching him off guard, throwing him forcefully against the wall. Emma could see that the life in his eyes was completely gone…_

_"No!"_ Emma screamed as she fell to the ground, sapped of all her strength. _"What are you trying to do to me? What are these images? Nothing like this has happened."_

_"Ahh…you don't know the future when you see it?"_

_"Future? No. None of that could possibly be. I don't—"_

_"But you can't be sure, can you? For all your psychic prowess, you can't see into the future. But I can, your highness. And I show you these events as a warning."_

_"A warning of what?"_

_"Adrienne of course. She's the common thread among most of these images. And it all starts from your visit today."_

_"Nonsense. Your trickery—"_

_"Your highness is much too clever for me to deceive. Have I steered you wrong with my visions of the future before?"_

Emma had to reluctantly admit that Nightmare's gifts had been accurate. If she would have taken the last one seriously, she could have possibly saved her students. And now, even more than before, she had to ensure their safety.

_"I'm smart enough to know that help from a character like you comes at a price."_

_"So are you ready to deal, White Queen? One good turn for another?"_

Emma thought for a moment. The school and Generation X were everything to her. It was her way of having another group of students to make up for the death of the Hellions. It also opened her up to the X-Men, her former enemies and showed her a new path she could walk. She knew that it was the fundamental reason why she had changed. Sure, there were times that she could easily slip back into her old self, but it was for protection of her students and the school. She had found something important—acceptance. She would be damned to let anyone take it away.

Emma looked into the empty eyes of Nightmare. _"What the hell do you want?"_

Nightmare smiled, showing a set of hideous, sharp teeth. _"Nothing, as of now. But your sister plans on being your and your students' undoing. And today is where it starts," _Nightmare enveloped himself in his cape, disappearing.

Emma awoke suddenly, the visions of Nightmare locked into her mind. _No, today is where it ends._

Interlude I.

A diminutive figure made his way down the dark corridor as growls and screams of torment resounded from somewhere far off, yet close enough to make his skin crawl. But he shrugged off the uneasy feeling, the gleeful anticipation of delivering good information to his master quickly taking over. It took all he had to maintain his composure as he briskly navigated through the bowels of their castle.

In minutes, he stood before a chamber door, a thick, heavy wooden construction with an iron handle and beams affixed to it. D.O.A. knocked once before pushing the heavy door open just a crack—far enough for him to peer inside. "Master, are you awake?" he whispered into the darkened chamber.

From somewhere in the darkness, a gravelly, raspy voice asked, "What has caused you to disturb my solitude?"

No matter how many times he heard it, D.O.A. jumped at the first sound of his master's voice. But pushing his nervousness aside, D.O.A. responded, "Master, I have news for you. Grand developments that you should be made aware of."

From a shadowy corner, Emplate's beady, glowing crimson eyes peered out from the darkness. "I care not for any news especially having to do with those wretched St. Croix siblings. And don't bore me with anything else about Generation X either."

For a just a moment, D.O.A. lost his excitement and considered keeping the news to himself. The absolute last thing he wanted to do was anger Emplate, especially since he had not fed in what seemed like ages. And the fact that the news did have to do with Generation X made D.O.A. think twice about sharing it. But surely, Emplate would be even more upset if D.O.A. didn't share this bit or reconnaissance with him.

"Michael Lawson," D.O.A. threw the name out, hoping to draw some interest from Emplate.

"Michael Lawson," Emplate repeated, as if he were searching through his memories. Then he leaned forward from the shadows and said, "A name I have not heard in years. Go on."

The grin on D.O.A.'s face growing wider, he reported, "He has taken up residence at Xavier's with your sisters."

Emplate paused, contemplating the consequences of this new bit of information. "An interesting turn of events indeed. And his power has undoubtedly grown. It will be glorious to sup on his marrow. Dear Monet, I'm sure she has figured out Michael's connection to her brief imprisonment."

Smiling at his master's pleasure, D.O.A. felt his own mood skyrocket. "So then, we're going after them? This would be the best time to get Penance back—maybe Monet and the twins too. Michael would be an added plus."

Without hesitation, Emplate replied, "It seems that there that the time has come for a family reunion."

He smiled at his master's comment, but unbeknownst to D.O.A., Emplate had a secret plan of his own, one that would free him once and for all from his accursed body. But to do it, he would need the combined might of the St. Croix siblings and Michael Lawson. _Yes, an interesting turn of events indeed_, Emplate smirked to himself. The smirk then grew into an evil guffaw, echoing throughout the halls of the castle.

Interlude II.

_I knew you weren't dead._

Angora opened the door to her daughter's room and glanced over everything once again. Everything was in its proper place—exactly as it had been before the accident. When Camille came back, she could feel right at home with her things. Angora smiled as she envisioned Camille's golden locks blowing in a gentle breeze as she gazed out of the window.

_"Mother, it's so beautiful outside. We should go for a picnic today!"_

Camille had always been so lively and energetic, always looking to explore and do wonderful, memorable things. She was active—almost a natural at whatever she decided her interest was that week. And she was always smiling.

Angora shut the door quickly, feeling a surge of emotion coming over her. She took a deep, cleansing breath, composed herself, and then marched down the hallway, her determination even stronger than before.

"We will be a family once again," Angora said aloud as she gently caressed the mirror, longing for the moment when she could actually feel the warmth of her daughter once again. "Just wait, Camille. Your new home is waiting for you. And mother is waiting for you too."

Interlude III.

Niles Cain barely felt his body hit the hard floor as Lucas Arminthorpe threw him back into the holding cell. Pain racked his body and it took all Niles had just to stay semi-conscious. Drawing strength from somewhere, Niles managed to lift and turn his head toward Lucas.

"You survived another round of testing today, old man. Seems like someone wants you to live. Sleep well. We're starting early tomorrow," Lucas said as he turned and slammed the cell door.

Niles took a deep breath and forced himself to a sitting position, rebelling against his body's wishes to simply lie on the cold floor. As he leaned his torso against the wall, he heard the familiar sound of the food tray sliding open. A dinner of grilled chicken, Italian herb potatoes, broccoli, and a dinner roll greeted him, along with the scowling expression on Trent Arminthorpe.

"Courtesy of Ms. Vaughn," Trent explained.

The aroma of the food gave Niles even more strength that he didn't think he had as he managed to lean forward and pull the tray towards himself. Struggling with even lifting the fork, Niles took a bite and thought he had went to heaven. Never had a meal tasted this good.

Again, Trent watched curiously as Niles ate.

Waiting until Niles had eaten a good portion of his food, Trent commented, "You know, it's only a matter of time before those kids come back to us. They're getting closer to figuring out we're the ones that kidnapped you. So for all the trouble you went through to get them to stay away, they're going to end up right back in my father's hands."

Niles paused eating just a moment, frowning. "You say it as if it's a good thing."

Trent felt his patience already growing short. "You don't know anything about my father's intentions," he sharply retorted.

"Do you?"

The question struck Trent as if he had been physically assaulted. He had to admit that he really didn't know why his father was so intent on getting Cain's kids back. But that was his father's direction, and as his son and trusted bodyguard, it really wasn't his place to question it, was it? "I don't even know why I talk to you," he replied, realizing how weak and unsure he sounded.

Feeling Trent's vulnerability, Niles said, "Deep down, you know that something is wrong with this whole setup. This wasn't my—our original intention. Something changed along the way. And I can't get close enough to Mason to find out why."

Trent suddenly stood. "You should get some rest. Tomorrow's tests aren't going to be any gentler."

Niles realized he had pushed too hard. "Give Ms. Vaughn my regards. And Trent, when my kids do come for me, stay out of their way. I say that only because I'd rather not see you get hurt."

"We'll see who gets hurt. Sleep well, Doctor." Trent slammed the food tray door, leaving Niles alone once again.

He knew that despite his efforts, his kids would come. Forcefully. And they were powerful enough to be a significant threat to Mason Arminthorpe. He didn't want anyone to be hurt, but from the way things were going, it was a guarantee that people would be seriously hurt. He just hoped that when the dust cleared, the right people were left standing.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional

The original incident with Ms. Pickwick occurred in Generation X #46. Some of the scenes in this chapter are based off scenes from that same issue.

Forge's original visit and installation of the Danger Room occurred in Generation X #47. Some of the scenes in this chapter are based off scenes from that same issue.

Nightmare visited Emma in Generation X #22, where he eludes to a woman threatening to take over his realm

The images Nightmare shows her are from Generation X #50, #51, #53, #55, #56, and #68


	8. A Single Day: Prologue

I.

The morning sun's rays peeked through the branches of the massive oak tree in the back yard of the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. The surrounding forest was tranquil as the chirping of small birds and romping of animals could be heard, while a cool, pre-Autumn breeze rustled small leaves. And in front of the school stood a small group of people on the verge of breaking that serenity.

"Tis a beautiful mornin' for trainin'," Sean Cassidy said before taking a deep, cleansing breath. He closed his eyes as the crisp air filled his lungs, held it there for just a moment, before letting it back out slowly. His eyes opened and he smiled at his audience knowingly. "Now, who's goin' first?"

Without hesitation, Monet St. Croix raised her hand promptly and after being motioned forward, moved quickly to a position opposite Sean.

As she took her place, he explained, "Th' purpose o' this exercise is important because there may be some situations where yuir powers will nae be available, or ye have t' keep yuir abilities secret. Therefore, ye'll have t' strictly rely on yuir fighting abilities t' keep ye alive."

Jubilation Lee, called Jubilee by her peers, stated through a mouthful of freshly poured Sugar Bombs, "I think this is like totally dumb. Even though you were an X-Man, jus like I was, and a policeman, and an agent, and whatever else you've done—geez, yer kinda old—Monet is like one gazillion times stronger and faster than you. When I was watchin' you fight tha other day, your Irish age was totally startin' to show. Why wouldn't ya use your powers on her?"

Angelo Espinosa nodded in agreement. "Yo man, I think I've gotta agree with Jubes here." Flanked by Ethan Callaghan, who shook his head in complete concurrence, he wondered exactly how Sean was planning on defeating her without using his powers.

"Ach, laddies. Ye have much t' learn," Sean dismissively stated. "Attack me, Monet!"

Moving swiftly even without the use of her powers, she dashed toward Sean and delivered a perfect spinning side kick to his midsection. Slow to react, he staggered from the impact. Not letting up for a moment, she launched a flurry of punches at his upper body, the older man barely dodging the strikes. But the last one connected to his jaw, jolting his equilibrium, but he quickly recovered his balance.

Jubilee another healthy took a bite of cereal before she asked, "Um, Banshee, were you like supposed to get hit like that?"

"Sometimes, ye have t' take a hit or two t' get an openin'," he replied said as he threw a side kick to Monet's face. She barely blocked the attack in time but quickly shifted her weight to throw a punch in retaliation. Anticipating the move, he dodged it and quickly moved in, tapping her above her ribs, a clear opening.

Grunting angrily, Monet counter-attacked with a wild backhand, but Sean had already moved out of her immediate reach. Internally, he was amazed at the girl's physical prowess. For someone at such a young age, she seemed to be totally in control of her reflexes and power, unlike some of her peers. He wondered if it was the result of her vast abilities or something else.

Dodging her techniques, he explained through controlled breaths, "Tis an excellent exercise in self-control. No matter how much she may want to, Monet's refrainin' from usin' her abilities. Quite well, Ah might add." Though he smiled at Monet, she gritted her teeth in response.

She threw yet another a perfect sidekick towards his face, but her move was a second too slow—enough time for him to get underneath, grab her ankle, and give her a slight tug. She lost her balance completely and before she could react, Sean shifted his grip and weight, tossing her over his head. Without using her abilities, she wasn't able to soften the fall and hit the ground hard, causing the spectators to flinch.

"Wow, impressive!" Ethan commended, amazed that Sean had defeated Monet so easily.

"Well, like of course, I mean, Sean was an X-Man an' all…totally same as me," Jubilee added, beaming.

Sean extended a hand to Monet, but the girl was already climbing to her feet, her chagrin morphing into pure rage. _Ach, ye may have hurt th' lass's pride,_ he thought to himself. To the audience, Sean said, "So, as ye can see, an overreliance on yuir powers can lead t' a deficiency in another, which can be yuir undoin' if ye find yuirself in a situation where ye cannae use yuir powers."

_That damn Sean! I refuse to appear pathetic in front of my peers!_ Intending to strike him with full force, Monet moved in stealthily, seen only by the other students as Sean had his back to her.

Seemingly unaware of her approach, he continued. "Ah must note that nae once durin' th' trainin' did Monet lose control and use her powers t' gain th' advantage. An' surely, she would ne'er be vengeful-hearted or use her powers out o' anger. Tis a fine example for ye all t' follow. Right, Monet?" Sean spun to find Monet standing innocently behind him, a broad smile across her face.

"Absolutely, Mr. Cassidy," she sappily replied.

Sean motioned for Monet to take a seat next to the others as he beckoned Angelo to come forward. "Now, the last thin' Ah want t' impress upon ye is t' use yuir powers efficiently. Fightin' an enemy usin' yuir powers doesn't have t' be a spectacular showdown. Sometimes, th' simplest maneuvers can avert a situation."

Sean jumped into an offensive fighting position, prompting Angelo to do the same. He began the sparring match with a straight punch to Angelo's face. He watched as the attack came in, and moving quite quickly and unexpectedly, caught Sean's fist in his palm.

His extra skin engulfed his lower arm, trapping him, then with a twist, Sean found himself with his arm contorted painfully behind his back, while Angelo stood behind him, with a triumphant grin on his face.

Jubilee jumped and cheered, nearly spilling her bowl of cereal. "Way ta go, Ange!" "Very nice, lad," he complimented, genuinely surprised at Angelo's increased reflexes and dexterity. "Now, would ye mind lettin' me go? Ah'd rather not deal with a dislocated shoulder. Ah've got a long day ahead o' me."

Angelo untangled his skin from around Sean's arm. "Lo siento. I've been workin' on my arsenal of moves. The trainin' sessions with Tom have been pretty cool."

"Ah can tell," Sean replied with a smile, then shifted his attention back to the other students. "As ye can see, a small, discreet use o' yuir powers can have a devastatin' effect on yuir opponent." Glancing at his watch, he said, "Ah dinnae want t' keep ye too long. Monet convinced us t' give ye lads th' day t' explore New York. Ah'm heading t' Boston t'day, so if any o' ye would like t' come along, let me know. Tis was a short lesson, but Ah hope ye got somethin' useful out o' it."

As Sean headed inside, Jubilee narrowed her eyes at Monet. "Like, were you really gonna hit him?"

Giving her a withering glare for asking such an obvious, stupid question, Monet replied, "Of course I was. The whole situation was completely bogus at the least. Regardless of where you are, if there is imminent danger, then one would be a fool not to utilize all of the resources that are available."

"You know, chica," Angelo interjected, "Sean's gotta point. There are gonna be times when we can't use our powers. I mean, there's all those power-dampening machines and crazy shit like that," Angelo added.

Monet flipped her hair, a sign that she was going to make the final point of the conversation. "Honestly, I do not anticipate ever finding myself in such a compromising position. My powers are an essential element of my being, and I shall never conceal or under-utilize them in a battle, regardless of what anyone says."

Her words hung in the air, leaving the others to figure out where they stood on the topic. But before a much longer conversation could ensue, she abruptly changed the subject as they made their way inside. "Jubilation, I'm taking a limo into Manhattan. Feel free to accompany me if you aren't preoccupied with some other event."

Jubilee looked as if she had just been hit. "Hold up! Did I like hear ya right? Yer askin' me ta go...with you? Dude, why? And like, what's tha catch?"

Monet continued to walk, addressing Jubilee over her shoulder. "Gaping doesn't become you. And don't escalate my invitation into something more than what it is. Consider it a token of my kindness."

Angelo shook his head. "Dios! Monet being nice? I think hell's frozen over."

"I'm extending the invitation to the both of you as well," Monet added.

"Ethan and I were gonna hit the gym then maybe see if we could tag along with Sean to Boston," Angelo answered, getting a nod from Ethan.

"Well, Lee, it appears that the trip to Manhattan will be you, Jono, and I."

"Jono's goin' too?"

"He will be," Monet replied. "We will be convening in the kitchen in an hour and a half. I have no intention on waiting if you are late. Showers and clean clothes are a must, so it would be prudent to start preparations now." She then disappeared through the doorway.

"I really don't know what to make of her," Ethan said to Jubilee and Angelo.

"We've known her for a while, and we still don't know what to make of her," Angelo joked. The trio followed Monet inside, anticipating the adventures of the day.

II.

Jono Starsmore groaned as the incessant buzzing of his alarm clock became unbearable. Reaching one hand from underneath the covers, he groped around on his nightstand for the device, slapping and hitting everything else piled there before finally resting his hand on the alarm clock. Pushing the snooze button, he retracted his arm back under the covers and attempted to doze.

But in what seemed like only a few seconds, the alarm clock sounded again. This time, he shoved off the covers and shut off the alarm, throwing his legs over the side of the bed while trying to expunge the last remnants of grogginess from his mind.

Opening his eyes, he stared down into the endless glow of kinetic energy churning within his chest cavity. He often wondered why he could sleep without his scarf and the energy didn't somehow pour out of him or destroy the bed. But usually, he just accepted it as a logical fact and continued about his day.

But today…something felt different about today. He couldn't simply accept the fact that somehow, there was some invisible barrier holding the energy inside. If he didn't have a chest or internal organs, then nothing was obstructing the energy from pouring out all over the place. Or keeping it from dissipating into the atmosphere. But somehow, without much conscious thought at all, either Jono held it within himself or maybe there was a barrier that was more tangible than he originally thought. Which is why when he wrapped his chest and face, the wraps usually took the natural shape of his jawline and body.

If that was the case then maybe though concentration, Jono could…

A knock at the door snapped him out of his thoughts. _"Come in,"_ he unenthusiastically called, the grogginess still in his telepathic voice.

The door opened and Monet strode in, immediately displaying an expression of disapproval and disgust at the disarray. Clothes, books, and other miscellaneous items were strewn about the floor, an unsavory odor hung in the air, and the room was bathed in a darkened ambiance, which made her abruptly halt, refusing to go into the room any farther.

"It's evident you have no experience with maintaining decent accommodations, Jono," she said.

_"Good morning to you too, gel. Care t' throw a few more insults this way? My day wouldn't be right without them."_

"As tempting and easy as that might be, I must refuse your offer. However, I am departing for Manhattan this morning and offer you a place in the limo."

_"What're we doin' in Manhattan?"_

Monet crossed her arms and cocked her left eyebrow. "_We_ are not doing anything. My initial presumption of the day's activities included introducing young Jubilation to finer apparel. I am positive there are grungy, stoic stores that suit your tastes. The whole premise, which Emma and Sean agreed to, is to expose us to something—anything—outside of the school walls without the precarious nature of our most recent endeavors."

It was way too early to decipher her rhetoric. But Jono caught the gist of what she was saying and that was quite enough for him as muddling through her extensive vocabulary was causing his head to ache.

_"You know 'ow to present an invite that's difficult to refuse, M,"_ he sarcastically replied. _"Whatever. I'll tag along."_

Smiling, she replied, "Good. We shall convene in the kitchen in approximately an hour and a half. Make a concerted effort to refine your personal hygiene to a standard worthy of public showing. And be punctual." With that, she spun, flipping her silken, jet black hair and departed, shutting the door behind her.

_Love her or hate her,_ he said to himself, reciting the mantra that had been associated with Monet since day one. Stuck-up, snobby, and pompous were a few adjectives that came to his mind. At the same time, he presumed it was all a façade, and underneath it all, she had the same self-doubt and flaws that they all had. It was just hell getting her to admit it.

Pushing himself off his bed, Jono shuffled to his bathroom, relieved himself, and leaned over the sink. Gazing at the rippling energy in his chest, his mind wandered back to his original thoughts his situation. All he had to do was concentrate—

Another knock, then the subsequent opening of the door without consent told Jono that Angelo had come down. He peeked his head around the corner and sure enough, Angelo, accompanied by Ethan, was poking around in his room.

"Yo, man, you up?" Angelo absently called as Jono came around the corner.

_"What're you blokes doin' down 'ere,"_ Jono said, purposefully glaring at Ethan. It was no secret that Ethan and Paige had feelings for each other, and though Jono was the one that broke up with Paige, he didn't quite care for anyone else dating her. Especially him.

"Hey, hombre, chill out," Angelo said, catching Jono's standoffish glare towards Ethan. "Ethan came down with me—we wanted to see what you were gonna be doin' for today's mandatory fun."

Jono rolled his eyes as he stepped out of the bathroom.

It was the first time that Ethan had seen Jono without some kind of wrap on, and it was quite a surprising sight. Glowing energy swirled around within his chest cavity, throat, and lower jaw, held at bay, mysteriously and invisibly, taking the shape of what his jaw, neck, and chest would look like if they were whole. The opening was lined with jagged flesh, as if the energy had simply broken through a porcelain shell, leaving a messy outline of its exit. It was disgusting and intriguing at the same time, and Ethan wondered if Jono was simply an energy-based life form, not needing an outside body to exist. Just then, Ethan suddenly became aware that Jono was staring back at him, scowling.

_"Got a problem?"_ Jono shot at Ethan.

"No," Ethan made direct eye contact with Jono. "Seems like you do though. If this is about Paige—"

_"You don't want to 'ave this conversation with me,"_ Jono icily replied.

Angelo stepped in between them. "You two chicos have got to mellow out. There's mucho tension in here, and it's making my head hurt," he split his words between both.

Taking his eyes off Ethan, Jono replied, _"I guess I'm goin' wit' Monet to Manhattan. In her own way, she said there might be my kinda stores out there. Besides, I need a few new records."_

"You're the only kid on the block that still has a record player," Angelo shook his head in disbelief.

_"What's e'eryone else doin'?"_

Ethan shrugged. "Sean offered to let us tag along with him when he went to Boston, so Ange and I are going with him. I'm not sure about the others, but they're probably just heading into Snow Valley."

"So, hommes, get dressed an' come upstairs so we can grab some grub," Angelo said, his stomach punctuating his statement with a growl.

If Jono had a mouth, he would have frowned, but his eyes conveyed his annoyance with Angelo. _"It's not like I can eat, mate. Why'd you wait for me?"_

"Oy! You're even more moody than usual. Maybe we just wanted your brooding company while we ate. What else are you gonna do—sit down here in this pigsty and sulk?"

_"I had thought about it. 'Sides,"_ Jono glanced around, _"it's not that bad. I know where everythin' is."_

"An organized mess," Ethan mumbled.

_"It doesn't require your approval,"_ Jono shot toward Ethan.

Growing weary of his attitude, Ethan announced, "I'm heading upstairs." He returned Jono's disapproving glare before disappearing through the doorway.

"I'll join you in a sec," Angelo replied as Ethan left the room. Once Angelo presumed he was out of earshot, he turned to Jono. "So, how long are you gonna keep acting like an ass toward him?"

Jono rolled his eyes as he grabbed his usual leather wrap for his chest and lower face. _"Whatever. I'd figured you'd understand."_

Angelo warded off Jono's reply with a frantic wave of his hands. "Whoa! I'm not gettin' in the middle of this. But somethin's gotta give. We're a team…save the bullshit for the bad guys out there."

_"The bad guys aren't datin' my ex-girlfriend." _Jono quickly wrapped his chest, used to the slightly cumbersome task.

"If you wanna talk, I'm here for ya, amigo. Right now," Angelo grabbed Jono's leather jacket and tossed it to him, "put on some pants and come upstairs, so we can eat."

_"Yeah, yeah,"_ Jono replied as Angelo left. Once more, his mind went to the gaping hole in his chest and whether he actually had enough control to do something about it. He suddenly regretted agreeing to go to Manhattan, but shook it off, hoping that a change of scenery would do him some good and help take his mind of Paige. And the gaping hole in his chest.

III.

_"In world news, a bomb ripped through the bottom floors of a children's refugee hospital in Villinkovic early this morning."_

Though breathing rhythmically as sweat beaded on her forehead, Paige Guthrie felt a chill run down her spine as the screen panned out to show the decimated hospital floors. She blinked away the image of children buried under rubble and worse.

_"While no known terrorist organization has taken responsibility, government officials report suspect that the Order of the Fifth Star may be responsible."_

Through focused breaths, she spoke into an unobtrusive earpiece, "Cerebra, index news report…keyword, Order of the Fifth Star…cross-reference keyword, terrorism. Mark location of attack, Villinkovic. Pinpoint other terrorism locales, keyword Order of the Fifth Star."

Moving her arms rhythmically, concentrating on keeping them pumping while not crossing her body, she continued her treadmill routine, pushing a button twice to increase the speed. She attempted to push the news report out of her mind, telling herself that she would revisit it later, but despite her best attempts, images of injured children kept flashing through her head. And then, a horrific image of masked hoodlums belonging to the Order of the Fifth Star celebrating their act of terrorism.

Disgusted, Paige ran harder and faster, determined to push the images out by exhausting herself, but all it did was make the scenes more vibrant and alive. She turned her attention back to the news report, giving up on taking her mind off of it.

The reporter went on to describe the Order of the Fifth Star as an ultra right-wing organization infamous for its nationalist and racist beliefs. But she thought it sounded too broad…too easy. She wasn't the one to jump to unnecessary conclusions, but maybe there was more to the Order of the Fifth Star than being just another terrorist group.

Paige sprinted the last two minutes of her forty-five minute run then slowed to a stop. Taking a sip of water, she stepped off the treadmill and began to stretch, noticing Emma watching her from the doorway.

"Why am I not surprised that you're up before the sun?"

She flashed a grin. "Good morning to you too, Ms. Frost. And that's how I grew up, but since there's not exactly farm work to do here, exercising became a suitable substitute. How are you this morning?"

Emma wondered if her sleepless night was plainly evident in her features. "The usual," she ambiguously replied. Taking a glance around, she then said, "I would've thought you would be using the new gym to workout in."

Paige settled on the floor in a hurdler stretch. "I don't know…I kind of like this one. Plus, we've got the flat screen in here, so I can watch the news while running. And the Cerebra connector works better in here," she pointed to the earpiece.

"So care to enlighten me as to why you've been in strict solitude with Cerebra and all its little toys?"

Paige switched legs and continued to stretch. "There's a lot going on in the world that we don't get to see. And with anti-mutant sentiment growing, I think more and more incidents are becoming linked, targeting mutants and humans alike. I'm tracking a majority of them through Cerebra, and I've linked it to Cerebro, which is linked to databases across the world for this sort of thing. I also talked Forge into linking it into our cell phones and mobile systems. Same as the new security system."

"And you say you're not as good as Pryde?" Emma smirked.

Paige blushed slightly.

"It's not easy to impress me, but this impresses me, Paige. I was concerned that you had lost your initial drive and edge that you had when you first came here. I can see a small twinkle of it coming back."

"I have a lot of time to focus now," she sourly replied.

Even without being a psychic, Emma was sure that Paige and Jono had broken up. She really didn't condone relationships among the students, and this was the exact reason why. "Just ensure that your crusade for independence and autonomy doesn't consume you. It happens very easily. As the academic year starts, I expect to see your grades back to the level that they were when you first arrived. Understood?"

Paige was surprised by Emma's comment and stammered for a moment. "Oh—I mean, yes, ma'am."

"Keep up the good work, Paige," Emma said as she turned and left Paige to her stretching.

_Wow, Ms. Frost actually noticed my grades and the work I've been doing,_ Paige marveled to herself. For months, it had seemed that Emma had been more distant and preoccupied with something other than being the headmistress of the school, which had begun to concern her and the other students. But it seemed that Ms. Pickwick's visit refocused everyone, bringing everything back to the way it was supposed to be.

Paige smiled to herself, glad that a new dawn was beginning, not just for the school, but for her as well.

IV.

"Hey, hombre!"

Ethan heard Angelo call from behind him as he was ascending the stairs. Turning around, he replied, "I'm just going upstairs to see if anyone else is up yet." He tried, and failed, at hiding his annoyance at Jono's standoffish attitude.

"If you're pissed about Jono, don't be," Angelo advised. "Don't get me wrong, he's practically my best friend here, but he tends to be a bit moody. Especially when it comes to Paige."

"It's not like I've asked her out or anything," he retaliated, realizing his defensiveness was with the wrong person. "Look, I thought something had happened between them last week. Paige was out here crying, so I asked her to go with us to Dr. Cain's. Jono saw me and probably thinks I'm trying to move in on his girl. I think she's is cute, don't get me wrong, but I'd rather not cause a bunch of trouble."

"They broke up," informed Angelo.

Ethan shrugged nonchalantly. "It really isn't any of my business though, is it?"

"It just seemed like you and Paige—"

"There's nothing going on between us," Ethan responded much too quickly.

At obviously the wrong part of the conversation, Rico bounded down the steps shaking his head. "Flirting with the girls _and_ the guys, Ethan? That's a new one, even for you." Ignoring Ethan's stammered protests, he kept walking into the living room and flipped on the television without responding.

Annoyed, Ethan said to Angelo, "I'm going to see what the rest of the girls are doing. I'll meet you in the kitchen." He turned and continued up the stairs, his face burning, not from Rico's ill-timed entry but from the fact that everyone thought there was something going on between him and Paige. Not that there was anything wrong with it, but he didn't really want to start trouble with Jono. Especially with everything else going on.

From the second he saw her, he thought Paige was an attractive girl. Long, straw blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, a dancer's body, and even an ever-so-slight Southern accent—Paige Guthrie was a hottie. And when he saw her crying on the stairs and figured it was because of Jono, Ethan set out to make Jono jealous. He wanted Jono to feel the same anguish she felt, which is why he didn't explain anything and let Jono think that he and Paige were growing closer. But the plan faltered, and now all Ethan had succeeded in doing was making a quick enemy of one of his teammates.

_You're off to a great start,_ he chastised himself. This wasn't like him at all. But there was just something about Paige that made Ethan lose all sense of reason and logic, the things he held most dear as a leader.

Vanessa stepped out of her room and into the hallway, dressed in jeans, t-shirt, and tennis shoes.

Ethan called, "Hey, Vanessa. Have you seen Mike?"

She shook her head, causing her shoulder-length, black hair to sway languidly. "Not this morning. Not yet anyways. I think he's still asleep. Wait, aren't you up kind of early?" It was common knowledge amongst the Arminthorpe teens that of all of them, Michael and Ethan valued their sleep. And they never hesitated to sleep in late when they had the chance, especially on the weekend.

"I guess it is kind of early. Maybe it's just the newness of this place. When I went downstairs, Jubilee, Monet, and Angelo were outside with Mr. Cassidy. I watched a short training session. Since we've got the day off-campus, Ange and I are tagging along with Mr. Cassidy to Boston. Monet's taking Jubilee and Jono to Manhattan. You guys got any plans?"

"Actually, Kiana, Lily, Gaia, and I are headed into Snow Valley. Lily was telling us about this amazing ice cream place there. And it gives us a chance to check out the area."

"Check out the area?" Ethan asked suspiciously. Of all of them, Vanessa was the most prone to poke her nose where it didn't necessarily belong.

"Yeah. As in see the other kids our age, look for stores, and other normal stuff," she curtly replied. But Vanessa knew what Ethan was getting at and with a sigh, she replied, "Trust me, I want to know what's going on with Dr. Cain too, but for now, I'm okay with waiting it out. We're here, and we're safe. I know that we'll figure out what happened to Dr. Cain soon."

Ethan rubbed the back of his neck, and his cheeks flushed slightly. "Sorry. I'm just a little edgy this morning. And after the run-in we had with Mina Laroché, I just didn't want you guys in the same situation."

Vanessa rolled her eyes then placed her hand on her chest in a dramatic fashion. "Oh, whatever would we defenseless, young damsels do without you dashing, brave knights at our side?"

"Point taken. I know you can take care of yourselves."

"Exactly. So stop worrying, Ethan. We've got enough on our minds as it is. Don't make up things to be worried about."

He shook his head then rubbed his hands across his face as he sighed deeply. "Yeah, you're right. This is our last weekend before school starts. We're supposed to be having fun."

Vanessa gave him a bright smile. "That's more like it. Now, drag your lazy friend out of bed, and go have fun in Boston."

Ethan turned to walk away then turned back. "You guys enjoy Snow Valley. I'll see you this evening."

"Later!" Vanessa called as she descended the stairs.

He continued onward to Michael's door, the second to last door on the right and knocked lightly. Opening it a crack, Ethan whispered into the room, "Hey, you up yet?"

Stepping further in the room, he found Michael sitting lotus style, hovering over his neatly made bed. It was odd seeing his teammate suspended in the air, completely still, and wondered how much power and control it took for such a feat. He still had a nagging concern that something significant had changed with Michael, but he still couldn't tell if it was for the better or worse.

"Earth to Mike," Ethan called.

His eyes opened slowly, two pits of fiery blue, which signaled the use of his power. "I heard you," he replied. "I tried not to, but I could hear your thoughts from down the hallway. Look, I know you're concerned, and honestly, I am too."

Ethan watched as Michael floated downward, then flipped onto his feet at the last second, the energy dissipating from his eyes.

"Ever since we left, I've felt my powers growing. I mean, when I was in the car with everyone else, I could hear every one of their thoughts. When we trained with Dr. Cain, I could barely pick up a single thought pattern, even when I was concentrating my hardest. And my TK...it's like easy to move all of the things I used to struggle with. And not just single objects. It's all so easy now. Almost too easy."

"I noticed. That scene with Vincent reminded me of Carrie or something."

"Like now, without really trying, I know that Monet's taking Jono and Jubilee to Manhattan. You and Angelo are going with Mr. Cassidy to Boston. Ms. Frost is heading to Boston. The girls are going to Snow Valley. Paige and Rico aren't going anywhere."

"I thought you didn't read minds without permission?"

"I don't. Trust me, I block what I can. But it's getting harder and harder. It's like everyone's thoughts are screaming in my head. And my TK, I don't know what my limits are anymore."

Ethan's face settled into a worried expression. "This doesn't sound good. Maybe you should talk to Ms. Frost about it."

"I will. Eventually. I want to try to get a handle on it myself first. Besides, she's only a psychic, she may not know anything about TK or how it works." Michael rubbed his neck, trying to alleviate the aching tension. "Maybe I'm just imagining it. Or just stressed and distracted. My concentration has been completely off since I got here. And I'm worried about my friends in the city. I think everyone knows I transferred to the crazy school with the weird, dangerous mutants, which to everyone else means I'm a weird and dangerous mutant too. I guess I should go to Snow Valley today. I can't keep avoiding it."

"Why were you avoiding it in the first place?"

Michael paused, looking away. "Because I don't want to have to tell them that I am a weird and dangerous mutant.."

Ethan gave a half-hearted laugh. "But you're not. Well, maybe a little weird. But still, not dangerous. Besides, being a mutant isn't a crime, Mike."

"I know that. I just—everything was going well. People change once they find out something about you that they didn't know before. Even though being a mutant doesn't change who I am, to everyone else, it can. And usually, it does. Everyone isn't as accepting of mutants as Xavier's is. And it will only be a matter of time before curiosity turns into suspicion and suspicion turns into accusation. And accusation turns into hatred."

"So you think being a mutant is a bad thing?"

Michael sighed heavily. "No. I don't know. Yes. I guess it wouldn't matter if I didn't know these people, but I went to school in Snow Valley. I have friends that aren't keen on the idea of mutants."

"Then why are they your friends? You're a mutant. We all are. Like Monet said this morning, it's a part of who we are. If you have friends that can't accept that, then what does that say about _your_ acceptance of your powers?" Ethan could tell that his words struck a nerve with Michael—instead of responding, he turned and gazed out of the window.

"So far, being a mutant has gotten me admitted to the medical wing of the Arminthorpe Corporation. It's distanced me from my family. It's somehow caused Dr. Cain's disappearance. It's caused Monet's imprisonment for God knows how long. My mutant powers aren't making a positive difference. They're making things harder. Not to mention the sudden problems I'm having with them. So what am I supposed to think of being a mutant?"

"What you always say, Mike—it is what it is."

Though not profound in anyway, Michael sighed and resigned himself to Ethan's simple response. "It is what it is. Nothing's going to change now, is it?" he wistfully asked as he turned away from the window.

"Look, I could go with you to Snow Valley and—"

Michael immediately shook his head, cutting him off. "I'd rather do this alone. I'll just take the RX-8 into town. I'm sure the driver can take the girls in the X5, since you guys are going to use the jeep. I'm pretty sure Monet's taking a limo for whatever reason."

"She likes to draw attention, I guess. You know, to be related, you two act totally different. But you both do have a flair for fashion."

Michael shrugged off the comment. "We're not that closely related. Kind of like half-cousins or something like that. But the more I see her, the more I wonder if we're really all that different."

"Well, act like an indignant, snobby rich kid, then you'll be just like her," he responded.

Michael rolled his eyes. "What I mean is that she has her issues just like I do. And she tries hard to hide them. I mean think about it. She has a brother that turned into a monster, she was trapped in Penance for quite some time then her sisters were trapped as well, she was overly sheltered as a child—she's got some hang-ups. But she hides it with an act of confidence and being standoffish, striving to be perfect."

"She's not perfect?!" Ethan playfully let his mouth hang open in shock.

"Surprise," he sarcastically replied. "Anyways, you'll have to tell me all about Boston when you get back."

"And you'll have to tell me what the hell is going on with your powers."

Michael sighed, sensing the pressure of Ethan's curiosity. "When I get back." With that, he briskly walked past Ethan and left the room.

Ethan watched him go, wondering if Michael had as many secrets as his relative, Monet. And if they would ultimately be their undoing.

Pushing the thoughts out of his mind, Ethan headed back downstairs and to the kitchen to join the others.

V.

"Ev, you're not hangin' with us today?" Angelo asked, his mouth open in shock.

Everett shook his head as he grabbed the orange juice from the refrigerator and poured himself a glass. "Sorry, Ange. I haven't been home in a while, so Ms. Frost is letting me take a trip to St. Louis. I'm just going today, and I'll be back tomorrow. I haven't seen my parents since—" he trailed off.

Angelo slapped his forehead, realizing the situation. "Dios! You haven't been back since then?!"

Everett shook his head. The last time his parents had seen him, he had been turned into a parasitic version of Emplate, and after unintentionally scaring his foster brother, Nate, and sister, Kim, he leaped from the window. Though he was possessed at the time, he couldn't believe what he had almost done and guilt kept him away. At this point, he didn't know what his parents thought. And he could only imagine what his siblings thought of him.

"Did you want company?" Angelo offered, but Everett shook his head quickly.

"Thanks for the offer. Really. It's just—I need to see my parents. I don't think we've really ever talked about the mutation thing." Everett downed the glass of orange juice then rinsed out the glass, setting it in the sink.

"Going home can be hard," Angelo said with much more emotion than he meant.

"Hey, everything will be fine. You guys can tell me all about Boston when I get back."

"Yeah. Ethan's taggin' along too. He's turnin' out to be pretty chill. But Jono's still not a fan."

Everett laughed. "In come the new students, and in comes a whole new season of drama. I'm glad I'm missing this episode. Anyways, the taxi's probably outside waiting." He grabbed his overnight bag from beside the front door. "I'll see you all when I get back. Let everyone know I said to have fun."

"Will do, hombre," Angelo gave a quick wave as the door closed. He remembered his own experience with trying to return home, and hoped that Everett had a much better experience. But before he could reflect on it more, Rico entered the kitchen.

"Buenos dias!" Rico said to Angelo, before throwing open the refrigerator. "Oh, man! Did Everett drink up all the O.J.? Guess it's apple juice for me." He poured himself a glass and downed it.

"Hey, doin' anythin' in the city today?" Angelo asked.

"Maybe. I want to check out the new computer system though. All of this alien technology business is pretty awesome. Forge's virtual overview was brief, but it made the system sound amazing. There's a lot of stuff we can access and do with Cerebra."

Angelo laughed. "You're startin' to sound like Paige. She's been goin' on about the new system since Monday."

"Maybe you should take a look too."

"I'll pass, amigo. You and Paige can fight over dibs on Cerebra without me."

"She's down there now?"

"Probably."

Rico took off toward the branching hallway off the kitchen, which led to the subbasement. Within seconds of each other, Jubilee, Vanessa, Ethan, Monet, and Jono entered the kitchen each with their own mission for food. Vanessa inserted two slices of bread into the toaster, while Jubilee snuck another few shakes of Sugar Bombs in her bowl.

"Morning, everyone," Vanessa called over her shoulder as she waited for the toast to pop up, though it managed to surprise her every time. "Ethan, you look like you're starving."

Ethan leaned against the counter, and his stomach growled loudly, as if his body was in agreement with her statement. He flashed an embarrassed smile. "I guess I'm a bit hungry. We were waiting for Jono I guess," he responded without making eye contact with him.

"That's why totally I never wait on Jono…way too slow," Jubilee took a big bite of Sugar Bombs.

_"That's why I never ask you to,"_ Jono replied. He grabbed a chair next to Angelo, spun it around, and sat down in it backwards. "'_ey, gel, you're awfully quiet, compared to earlier this mornin'. What's the deal?"_ he asked Monet.

Monet stood like a statue, leaning against the counter opposite Ethan. Dressed in a short-sleeved shirt lined with a complicated gold design that exposed her perfectly toned abs, a matching white pair of low-rise slacks, and boots, she looked as though she were posing for a photo shoot than waiting to grab a bite to eat.

"Yeah, you totally missed the paparazzi a few minutes ago," Jubilee added.

Monet smiled. "Today is a day for change. No one will succeed in transporting obscurity into my day, nor will I imprudently descend into tedious banter or squabbling."

"Translator!" Angelo called.

Michael strolled in the kitchen just in time to respond. "Basically, she's ignoring you guys and refuses to argue with any of you. Morning."

"Buenos dias," Angelo nodded.

_"Mornin', mate,"_ Jono said, giving a half-wave.

"Mmm…hmmm…mmm," Jubilee attempted a greeting through her mouthful of Sugar Bombs.

"I'm making eggs. Anyone else want some?" Michael asked as he began to concentrate. Simultaneously, the refrigerator opened and the egg carton and a stick of butter floated out, the bottom cabinet next to the stove opened and a skillet floated out, and the upper cabinets opened as the salt and pepper floated down along with a bowl.

"Dude, you're getting' way too fancy. Why doncha jus' grab a bowl of cereal?" Jubilee asked.

"Not a fan. Besides, I need protein if I'm working out, right?"

"He's got a point," Ethan said. But really his mind was focused on Michael's telekinetic feat of manipulating all those items at once. Less than a year ago, he could barely handle a single, large object. Now, he was easily moving several smaller, much more fragile objects with a noticeable finesse. "Two scrambled eggs," Ethan gave his order, watching Michael more closely.

"Umm…how about two fried eggs, but none of that runny stuff. Make sure they're cooked all the way through," Vanessa said.

Michael marveled at his own abilities as he pulled the correct count of eggs out of the carton, placed it back in the refrigerator, put butter on the skillet, cracked the egg orders into different bowls, seasoned them, and placed them on the grill…all with his telekinesis. Just to try it out, he actually managed to keep the eggs separate on the grill, cooking them to perfection before floating over three plates and spooning the eggs off on them.

"Wow. That was quite a show, hombre," Angelo said.

"Yeah," Michael said, suddenly unnerved as he realized the level of control he suddenly had. "Pretty amazing," he quietly added. Then he caught Ethan's concerned gaze, and immediately looked away. "I guess I've been practicing in my sleep," Michael off-handedly stated as he took a spot at the table. "Monet, you didn't want anything?"

"The offer is appreciated, but I've already eaten."

_At least she didn't act like a jerk towards me. Maybe we're making progress,_ Michael thought as he began to eat.

Emma, dressed in a sharp, pristine white business pants suit, purposefully strode through the door, immediately going for the coffee pot. She poured herself a cup and took a whiff of the steaming liquid, the aroma sending a jolt of alertness into her weary haze. Taking a sip, she turned to the students and smiled. "Well, now it's good to see all of your smiling faces, and I'm sure all of you are looking forward to your day off the grounds. I myself am going on a business trip to Boston. Since most of you are going out, ensure you have your cell phones with you."

"Cell phones?" Angelo repeated.

"I'm sure you children were hastily rummaging through the uniforms and failed to notice the box of cell phones sitting next to the rack." Emma set the box down and began to hand out the phones. "The phone numbers are separated by one digit, and all of your numbers begin with six-one-seven-zero-zero. Should be easy enough for all of you to remember. Sean's and my number are already programmed in—use it only if you need to. The first prank call I get, you're going to wish you were going to school on the other side of the world."

"You know, this is the first really cool thing you've done for us, Frosty," Jubilee said as she inspected the sleek device. The sleek, black cell phone had a detachable blue tooth device, was as thin as an iPod Nano and seemed quite durable. The small display screen shone brightly, the soft light dancing off Jubilee's features.

"Ms. Frost, Jubilation," Emma tiredly corrected. "Don't even make me begin the laundry list of how much everything in this place costs. Youth these days tend to take things like groceries, gas, and utilities for granted. And I don't even want to get into those new uniforms. In any regard, the Bluetooth device also acts as a comm radio link, hooked into Cerebra. If needed, you can press the button and automatically switch to radio functions." After the explanation, she passed the phones out one by one.

"Sweet!" Angelo grinned as he took his.

"Wow," Vanessa smiled. "I don't think other schools hand out cell phones especially high-tech ones like these." She turned the sleek device over in her hands, surprised at its light weight.

"Are these things alien technology too?" Michael offhandedly asked, studying the phone suspiciously.

Jono replied, _"Come on, mate. Everythin' 'ere is alien technology. You should be used to it by now."_

Jubilee smiled broadly as her fingers flew over the keypad, almost instinctively knowing how to navigate through the device. "And there are totally cool games on here too! And I can IM, and—"

Emma sighed. "Drool over the extemporaneous extras Forge installed later. Ethan, ensure the rest of the students get the phones before the week starts."

"I will," he responded, glad that Emma trusted him to complete the task. Honestly, he had already begin to wonder if he would have a leadership role within the team, much like when he was at Arminthorpe. Honestly, he hoped so.

She explained further, "The batteries last for a week, and they're linked to multiple satellite systems, so you won't encounter any dead spots. So there's no reason not to answer if I call."

"Well, what if—" Jubilee started, but a flat stretch of skin wrapped around her mouth.

"I must commend your timely interjection, Angelo," Monet smiled slyly.

Jubilee mumbled a muffled response, narrowing her eyes in her direction.

"Well, that may actually work better than psychically shutting off her motor faculties," Emma mused. "Let's try to have zero incidents this weekend. I would rather not have to fly back because you've wrecked Snow Valley or managed to destroy an entire block of New York City."

"Yes, ma'am!" Angelo unwrapped the skin from around Jubilee, stood, and gave Emma a mockingly sharp salute with his left hand, steadying himself in the most erect posture possible. It elicited a few chuckles from the others.

"Anybody gonna like turn off his motor faculties?" Jubilee pouted.

"Trust me, the thought has crossed my mind a few times," Emma replied. She glanced at her silver Maurice Lacroix watch then said, "I'd tell you all to have fun, but I'm sure that's a given. Monet assisted with taking our younger students and Penance to the main mansion for the day, so you don't have to worry about them, just in case you were. I'll see all of you when I return. Try to be in one piece." With that, she strode out of the room and the front door opened and closed quickly after.

"Does anyone else feel tense when she's around?" Vanessa asked. Just then, the toast popped up, startling her.

"Ehh…ya get totally used to it," Jubilee said.

Only a few minutes later, the student body of the Xavier Institute parted ways, hoping to spend a relaxing, fun day off the school grounds. But fate had a different series of challenges, realizations, and revelations in store for them. And by the end of the day, none of them would be the same.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional

Some of the scenes in this chapter are based off of scenes in Generation X #71, #72, #73, and #74


	9. A Single Day: Jono

I.

Seated in the backseat of a Frost Enterprises limo, Jonothon Starsmore, Jubilation Lee, and Monet St. Croix relaxed in the plush leather seats, occasionally glancing out the window. The driver had been courteous enough, or simply well-trained, and rolled up the glass divider between the front and the back, allowing the kids to talk freely, without worrying about being overheard by a complete stranger.

Outside, the forest transformed seamlessly into distant buildings as they neared New York.

"Whatcha gonna do out here, Jono?" Jubilee distractedly asked, her eyes glued to the new cell phone. She jerkily moved from left to right, physically reacting to one of the random games she discovered at the beginning of the trip.

_"There's a record store out 'ere…I need some new ones. You?"_

"Well, I'm goin' shopping an' tryin' to get some like real Chinese food, if M can handle it. That stuff out in Snow Valley is like shaky at best."

Monet rolled her eyes. "Really, Lee. Please, enlighten me to the frequency of which you have actually visited China. Once? Maybe? A mere fraction of the countless times I've been. If anything, I shall expose you to authentic Chinese food."

"Like I don't know what real Chinese food is…are you totally blind? Didja miss the fact that I _am_ Chinese?! Mom and Dad…yeah, you guessed it. Chinese! Breakfast, lunch, and dinner…authentic Chinese cooking, Monet. For once, could ya stop acting like you're so damned better than everyone else an' think before ya talk?"

_"An' the both of you are supposed to be spendin' the day together?"_ Jono moaned. _"Which one of you gels isn't comin' back alive?"_

Recovering from her momentary stunned expression, Monet cleared her throat and replied, "There's a new Prada store opening in SoHo. And we can frequent a store of your choosing. My American Express Centurion Card, or what most individuals denote as the coveted Black Card, will cover our expenses for the day."

Jubilee rolled her eyes, realizing that was as close of an apology as she was going to get from her—the offer to pay for whatever she wanted. But that wasn't anywhere near enough to cover the insult, and she was tempted to verbally lash out at Monet again. But with her, it seemed to just roll off her like water off a duck, and in the end, she was sure that a tirade wouldn't make a bit of difference.

Monet added, "And I had no intention of insulting your heritage. So, let's simply move on without addressing it again."

_Was she tryin' to apologize?_ Jubilee thought, recanting her earlier assessment. She wanted to reply appropriately, but nothing seemed quite fit the moment appropriately. Instead of fumbling for words, she simply made a mental note, gave Jono a knowing glance, and then returned to her game, letting the conversation die.

Luckily, the rest of the ride only lasted a little over ten minutes, and once within the downtown area of New York City, the trio exited the limo and stretched their legs.

"Man, I had totally forgotten how awesome New York City really is!" Jubilee marveled at the skyscrapers, the busy passersby, and the traffic-laden streets. It reminded her of the hustle and bustle of L.A. "Frosty and Banshee should totally move the school here—right in the middle of Times Square!"

Noticing a trio of girls looking at him with piqued interest, Jono replied, _"Brilliant idea, Jubilee."_

"Mon Dieu! You act as if we've been secluded from the outside world for decades and this is your first exposure to something that resembles normal life. I'm positive that you're making a spectacle of yourselves, ogling at everything in sight."

Jono managed to chuckle at Monet's statement. _"Some of us aren't used to the ritzy city life, M. You an' Jubilee 'ave fun. Call if you need me. Otherwise I'll meet you back 'ere at six."_ Jono gave a fleeting wave before heading down the street.

Monet wondered if he actually knew where he was going, but before she could ask, Jubilee spun around in the middle of the sidewalk.

She then said to Monet, "Psht. Whatever, M. Stop acting like the richest girl of the universe and chill out. Ya gotta learn to have a little fun and stop being stuck-up all the time."

"I wish you would stop referring to me as stuck-up."

"Then relax. And like have a good time. We're not at school, so why not let your hair down and live it up?"

"I do believe our versions of a good time are starkly different, Lee," she replied, then hailed a taxi as if she had done it countless times before. "You'll find that there are good times to be had that don't include being loud, obnoxious, childish, or the mall."

"An' like maybe one day, you'll like figure out that acting all snobby doesn't make ya better than anybody else. Underneath it all, you're jus' like everybody else around you."

Promptly, a taxi pulled up to the curb, and the two girls climbed in the back. In the next minute they were immersed in the heavy traffic, on their way to an adventure neither one of them expected.

II.

Jono headed away from everyone in the general direction of the record store. He figured that he needed to go a few more blocks then turn right, heading another few blocks. Glad for the walk, he wanted—needed—the time alone.

A cool breeze ruffled his dark brown hair as he passed by people who cast strange looks in his direction and giggled amongst themselves. Some groups of boys tried to act tough and say something loud enough for him to hear it, hoping to get a reaction from him. He continued to walk without giving them so much a glance.

He inadvertently took a roundabout way to the record store and was grateful when he finally arrived. The familiar tinkling of the hanging bells sounded as soon as he opened the door. Relived to be off the street, he managed to relax some. Just being inside made him feel a little more comfortable, and as he looked around, his comfort level increased. Other patrons of the store were dressed in mostly dark clothes with piercings or tattoos. Very Goth-like.

Feeling comfortable in his own skin, something he hadn't felt in quite some time, Jono worked his way systematically around the store, avoiding the Pop, Rap, and Classical sections like the plague. Nearing the back of the store, he spied a label in the back and lines of records just waiting to be perused.

_"U.K. Punk! Absolutely astonishin'!"_ he rejoiced. He didn't think he would ever so easily find the music he liked. He eagerly thumbed through the records, pulling out ones missing from his collection, both old and new. Immersed in the records, he failed to notice a teenage woman standing in his vicinity until he was nearly done.

Playing it off as if he were still perusing other records, Jono surreptitiously glanced in her direction, immediately noticing her dark makeup, a multi-layered choker, black hair shaved on the sides, multiple ear piercings, a nose ring, halter top lined with boa feathers, matching fingerless gloves, a long wrap skirt, and combat boots. But just as he thought to avert his eyes, her vibrant jade eyes locked with his for a moment, embarrassing him. He looked away sharply, cursing himself for letting his gaze linger way too long. And getting caught looking. If Angelo were there, he would have probably laughed and made the situation that much worse.

But a darker perspective took over, and he started to think that the girl only looked at him in disgust or pity, having noticed a scarf wrapped around his neck and lower face. Consequently, morbid curiosity had gotten the better of her, and her gaze lingered simply to get a better look at the scarred, disfigured _mutie_ in the back of the store.

_Snap out of it!_ he told himself, pushing the negative thoughts out of his mind. When he glanced back up, he locked eyes with her again, but this time, didn't turn away. Instead, she gave him a beckoning smile, turned, and headed toward the front of the store.

_What're you doing, you bloke? You're not datin' Paige. Just talk to 'er._

Taking a chance, something Jono rarely did, he gathered the few records he wanted and made his way to the front. He didn't want to make it too obvious, so he lingered by the CDs while she paid for her merchandise, then watched as she went for the door.

You lost your chance, he thought, dismayed. But when she lingered by the door, throwing another glance his way, his spirits rose. Pretending not to notice, Jono paid for his records, fumbling enough to elicit a chuckle from the sales clerk, who seemed to have caught the chemistry between the two. He moved faster than normal, bagging Jono's stuff and getting him his change in record time.

"Good luck, man," the tattooed cashier grinned.

_"Thanks mate!"_ Jono replied without a second thought.

Pretending to be interested in the CDs as well, he moved closer to the girl. Unsure of how to approach her, he said, _"Um. 'Ello. I was curious if you—"_

Her lively eyes widened in shock as her fair face paled, and her mouth opened in a silent O.

_"Eh—I…uh…didn't mean to startle you," _Jono apologized, suddenly feeling uneasy and embarrassed.

Her hands shot to cover her open mouth, and before he could say anything else, she bolted out of the store. Without a second thought, he pursued her, emerging from the store onto the busy sidewalk. Losing sight of her for a second, he scanned the area until he spotted her maneuvering through the crowd hastily.

Seemingly oblivious to oncoming traffic, the girl darted into the street—right in front of a speeding van. The driver reacted quickly, slamming on his brakes as his tires skidded against the street, but it wasn't going to be enough, and Jono knew that unless he did something, she was going to be hit.

He pulled down his scarf just enough for a soft glow to highlight his face, as the biokinetic energy reacted to his command. Used to unleashing a bombardment of concussive current, Jono had to focus immensely to release only a minute bit of energy—enough to create a pinpointed stream to blow out the right front tire.

The explosion of the tire and rim skidding across the rough asphalt only managed to cause the van to careen to the right, and it continued to plow towards the girl, who stood paralyzed in its path, only able to watch in horror as it drew closer.

Jono sprinted into the street, and using every bit of physical strength he had, leaped forward grabbing the girl around the waist, then shifted his weight in midair, successfully clearing them from the danger at the last possible second. As they tumbled on the ground, the van skidded past, then slowed to a stop. Onlookers crowded around as the driver stepped out, barely able to keep his knees from buckling.

Now breathing hard, Jono and the girl made eye contact from their positions on the ground. They stared at each other for a moment before Jono made a move to help her up. _"Are you okay?"_ he asked. He couldn't tell if she was in shock over what just happened or if whatever she saw in the store was still frightening her, but face was still pale and eyes wide. She said nothing but continued to stare blankly. _"Talk to me!"_ he snapped, shaking her gently.

Finally reacting, she shook her head back and forth and pointed to her ear then mouth. It took Jono a moment to realize what she was trying to convey. _She's deaf,_ he concluded. _"I didn't know. But you can still talk to me. Just think about what you want to say and think about me hearing it. But you have to make it loud."_

_"CAN YOU HEAR ME?"_ the girl thought.

_"Yes, just not so loud next time."_

She giggled. _"Sorry."_

_"I didn't mean to frighten you back there."_

_"That's okay. I was just so surprised to hear a voice that it scared me. I didn't know what to do, so I ran. That was kind of silly though."_ She paused for a moment, _"My name is Rana."_

_"I'm Jono, it's nice to meet you," _his face underneath the scarf formed a smile.

"You!" the driver of the van pointed accusingly at them. As if on cue, the police broke through the crowd, and he started talking hurriedly and pointing at Jono.

_"I hate to start off like this, but I think we better get out of 'ere."_

Rana grabbed his hand, _"Follow me. I know a place where they won't find us."_

They made haste through the streets, through a few alleys, and cut through a small park, not stopping until they emerged onto a completely different street, coming to rest in front of a small café with a hanging sign, Coffee Haus.

Rana led him into the small coffee house, which only had a few other patrons leisurely sipping their drinks between quieted conversation. Sliding into a booth in the back, they finally came to rest. She took a relaxing, deep breath, and smiled at Jono.

_"Well, within the first ten minutes that I've met you, I've made a fool of myself, almost gotten myself killed, ran away from the police, and had to hide out in my favorite coffee shop. I can tell that there's not going to be a dull moment with you."_

The waiter approached the table, and she pointed to a Cappuccino on the menu. She then looked expectantly at Jono, but he shook his head.

When the waiter was gone, Rana apologized, _"Jono, I'm sorry. I didn't even think about…"_

_"Don't worry about it. I can't eat or drink anything."_

_"That must be horrible."_

He shrugged nonchalantly. _"I can't change it, so I just live with it. I'm lucky to have mates around me that understand. So what were you doin' in the music store?"_

_"Oh, you mean, why would a deaf person be shopping for music?"_

_"No—er, I didn't mean it like that—"_

_"Look, if we're going to get along, there's no stepping on toes here. You can ask whatever you want, no matter how dumb it may sound to you. Because I'm going to do the same. Deal?"_

_"Deal."_

_"I pick up a new record every week from that place. I can listen to the music by feeling the sound waves. In that sense, I love to "listen" to music and can enjoy it in the same way as people that can actually hear it. But today, I was shopping for my little sister. Her birthday is tomorrow."_

_"That's why you 'ave the Britney Spears record. I was worried for a second."_

They both laughed, then launched into idle conversation punctuated with silent laughter and unheard jokes. The waiter brought her order, surprised that she was smiling and appearing to be having a good time, though he hadn't seen them express any form of communication except eye contact. Puzzled, he simply resolved it as something he wouldn't understand and left the two alone.

The dialogue lasted for nearly two hours after Rana finished her Cappuccino. At the end, she suggested a walk in the park, since the commotion from earlier had probably died down. Jono checked his watch and was amazed that two hours had already gone by. He agreed, and after paying and tipping the waiter generously, the pair strolled side-by-side down the street, having an enjoyable talk no one else could hear as they neared the park.

A few minutes after settling on a bench in the pack, Rana said, _"Hey, why don't we talk about you for a bit?"_

_"What do you mean?"_ Jono absently asked, obviously skirting around her request.

_"Come on, Jono. I've been talking about myself the entire time. I wanna know a little more about you."_

_"Sorry, gel. Not much to tell. Born and raised in England. Came to America for school. Just a regular bloke." _

She looked at him disapprovingly. "_I can tell that you're not a regular bloke just by looking at you."_ A long time ago, she had learned to read body language accurately, so when he looked away, Rana knew what he was thinking. In an attempt to console him, she said, _"Don't look like that. You and me…I think that we're sorta the same. We have these…these things that keep us from talking—communicating—normally with other people. So we keep our distance, willing to hide within ourselves because it's safe. And the rest of the world…it's like we are strangers to the human race…"_

_"Everyone looks at us as if we're the strange ones," _Jono added, feeling a connection.

_"Or pity. And I absolutely hate that."_ She turned to him and gently caressed the side of his face, noticing that he immediately averted his eyes. _"Jono, you don't have to hide from me. We don't have to hide anything from each other. No judging. No awkward glances. Just us."_

After a few minutes of silence, he said, _"Most people I meet get scared or they want to 'urt me just because of what they think I am. I—it's kind of 'ard to meet normal mates that don't make snap judgments at first glance. And my chances at a normal life were blown to 'ell a long time ago." _

He stood, feeling the need to stretch his legs. This time, Rana stayed on the bench, watching his nervous movement.

_"I'm not going to hurt you, Jono. Not because of your thing. Not because of the way you look. Not because of what I think you are."_

He spun around, his eyes flashing. _"It's not just this thing over my face. You don't know—"_

_"That you're a nice guy? That you can't eat or drink, but still join me for a Cappuccino? That you saved me while putting your own secret on the line? Yeah, I don't know, Jono."_ She stood and closed the gap between them, poking her finger in his chest. _"The fact is that I do know. And regardless of what you think, I still think that you're a normal guy. A good friend to me. Maybe, when you figure it out, I can be a good friend to you too."_

They locked eyes, and for a moment, Jono felt as if he could get lost in hers. _"I want to…"_ he whispered but his voice faltered and trailed off. _"But—"_ he weakly said.

_"But?"_ Rana repeated, trying to keep her tone neutral. _"But what?"_

_"I don't have the luxury of livin' a normal life, gel. No one around me does. So anyone that I want to keep safe, I just have to keep them away from me. I can't risk anyone else close to me gettin' 'urt. And I can't change that in an instant."_

_"Can't change? The only thing in life that's constant is change. Everything can change, no matter how big or small."_

Jono shook his head, as if refusing Rana's simple logic. _"My life is risky. And I 'ave to weigh that against everythin' else, includin' people that are close to me. I trust you—you're one of the first people I've met in a while that makes me want to try to change. But I just can't—not now. I 'ave my reasons that you may not understand, but if you know me, at least you can respect them."_

_"Hey, I think it's getting late. Let's take the subway back to the record store."_

Jono let Rana take his hand, as they strolled out of the park. The subway was only about a five minute walk, but as soon as the entrance came into view, they both stopped. Bright yellow police tape blocked off the descending stairs, and the policemen were doing their best to disperse the growing crowd.

_"Come on," _Jono said. Still holding Rana's hand, he cut through the crowd and made his way to the front, but there was nothing that immediately told him why the subway was blocked off. He turned to a brown-skinned man in a skull cap. _"What's goin' on here, mate?"_ he asked.

_"Not sure, man. They were sayin' somethin' about some terrorists, flying girls, and fireworks. Beats the hell out of me what really happened down there."_

His stomach sank. Something had happened in the subway, and somehow, Monet and Jubilee had been caught up in it. But were they okay? And why hadn't they called him?

Jono turned to Rana. _"Something's come up, and I've got to go. Are you goin' to get 'ome okay?"_

_"Yeah, I can get a cab,"_ she paused. _"My mom will worry if I'm out too long. You going to be okay walking?"_

_"Yeah."_

Rana' reached in her pocket, pulling out a pen and small paper. She scribbled something down then locked eyes with Jono. _"If I give you my address, will you write me?"_

Jono hesitated, but Rana didn't give him too much time to respond.

_"Don't let me down, Jono, because we both have been down that road several times."_ She leaned against him and hugged him. Then Rana drew back and before Jono could react, she leaned forward and kissed him exactly where his mouth should have been. It was a quick kiss, and then she turned and happily ran down the street.

Jono, still shocked by the kiss, felt a piece of paper in his hand. When he looked down, he saw her name and address scribbled on it. Shoving it in his pocket, he turned and took off towards the meeting point, hoping the girls were there.

Fortunately, when he rounded the corner at full speed, he saw Monet and Jubilee leaning against the limo, their bags haphazardly placed around them. They appeared disheveled and worn out.

_"What the 'ell happened? I saw the subway was blocked off. Somethin' about terrorists, flying girls, an' fireworks. I knew it 'ad to be you two."_

"We'll give you an explanation in the limo," Monet quietly replied. Jono helped them place their bags in the back and climbed in behind them. In minutes, they were back on the highway to the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, Jubilee fast asleep on Jono's shoulder.

Once Monet was finished retelling the monumental events of the day, Jono said, _"You should've called me. That's what we got the bloody cell phones for, right?"_

"We didn't need a knight in shining armor, Jono. Actually, despite Jubilee's gracelessness, we maintained control of the situation. No one was hurt—and our identities aren't in danger of being exposed on the news. Besides," she slyly added, "I didn't want to pull you away from your date."

_"Dammit, Monet, stop readin' my mind,"_ he snapped.

Monet softened her expression. "It wasn't my intention to pry. However, considering the emotional rollercoaster you and Paige—"

_"Which is none of your damn business."_

"Point taken. I just figured you desired someone to talk to. You seemed quite distressed when you arrived at the limo. I was simply…concerned."

He sighed, realizing Monet may have actually been trying to be decent. To her, he explained, _"She was a great girl…all that I could 'ave asked for. She truly liked me for who I was and didn't treat me like a freak. But the truth is that I am a freak, and the life I live isn't much of a life. The constant battles, the pain, the death…she deserves better than that."_

"And what about you? What do you deserve?"

_"Not a girl like her. Not a girl like Paige," _he somberly replied. Pulling the paper out of his pocket, he studied it one last time. Without a second thought, Jono rolled down the window and let the wind snatch it from his hand, along with any hope of being happy with anyone else.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional

This chapter is based off of Generation X #71


	10. A Single Day: Jubilee and Monet

I.

"So here I am. Jubilation Lee. X-Man turned Generation X-er. In the brand new Prada store. Sittin' here while Miss Perfect like tries on another price tag-less dress, which'll somehow totally fit her perfectly. Ugh!"

Jubilation Lee couldn't have been more annoyed. About two hours ago, she trailed behind her teammate and most times enemy, Monet St. Croix, into a Versace store, filled with clothes that she absolutely abhorred. Most of it reminded her of the rather unsightly fashions raved about in every magazine she read, not to mention that it was probably tapered to fit a seven year old girl.

Now, she sat waiting while Monet took an entire rack of clothes into the dressing room, intending to try on every single piece. And it was no secret that she took forever to get ready, something that Jubilee couldn't quite relate to. She was happy with a pair of jeans, a printed t-shirt, a pair of Converses, and her standard sunglasses to top it off. Nothing fancy needed. However, Monet was at the complete opposite end of the spectrum with all designer clothes, shoes, and accessories. There was no mistaking it—she had style, but it just seemed like way too much effort to Jubilee.

She blew a large pink bubble, then sucked it back in, letting out an impatient sigh.

The cashier, whose nametag read Kira, narrowed her eyes disapprovingly at the young Asian girl in the rather common clothes with nothing better to do than to loiter in the store. She surreptitiously threw glances her way every now and again, hoping to find any little reason to kick her out.

Frustrated, she crossed the room with a purposeful, lengthy stride, and stopped quite close to her lingering patron. She eyed the girl down the bridge of her nose, and snootily said, "Excuse me, is there anything I can help you with? You have been here quite some time, and do not seem to be interested in our merchandise."

Normally, Jubilee would have probably responded in kind to the woman's condescending address. Instead, she shrugged while blowing a large pink bubble, then sucked it back in with a loud smack. She looked back and forth to check to see if anyone was within earshot, and when she saw there wasn't, she leaned in slightly and dropped her voice to a hushed whisper.

"Ya know, you could like spend tha next few minutes tryin' to convince me ta buy somethin' in your overpriced, stuffy store. Or maybe tryin' to like kick me out because ya think I'm beneath this place. Whateves. But if I were you, I'd totally be takin' care of my friend in there."

Kira's hands clenched into fists. "Pardon me? I did no such—"

"Psshht," Jubilee threw her hands up in complete exasperation. "Look, chick. No need ta like explain. But obviously, you weren't like payin' attention. My friend in there, she's Monet St. Croix." She pointed a thumb in the direction of the dressing rooms and gave her a reprimanding glare.

"Hmph. Am I supposed to know who that is?"

"Okay, homegirl. She is like _the_ Monet St. Croix…tha one from like all those Victoria Secret commercials and those fashion shows. She's like only one of tha hottest items in show business right now. She's already gonna like star in Robert DeNiro's next movie, and the rumor is that she's like datin' him, but that's jus' gossip. Puh-lease, do not tell me you don't like recognize her. And I thought you guys were totally on top of your game. Whateves. I'll have to tell my BFF that this store is straight up dissin' her. I'm sure that'll get around tha like social circles in no time."

At first, Kira wasn't sure what to make of the girl's explanation, though originally, she thought that Monet St. Croix looked somewhat familiar. And after hearing an explanation, she could kind of remember maybe seeing something on television with her in it. She took note of Monet's stride, which demanded authority and radiated an aura of haughtiness that only models and actresses managed to pull off. Not to mention Monet St. Croix's stunning features and amazing body that Kira was secretly jealous of.

She cleared her throat indignantly. "Well, of course I recognize her. I was just…the lighting's not quite bright enough in here, and she looks much younger in real life. And I've been a little preoccupied lately."

"Happens all the time!" Jubilee stood and rested a hand on her shoulder. "I mean, tha whole ten pounds thing, makeup, blah, blah, blah. Don't worry 'bout it though. I've like gotcha covered."

As if on cue, Monet stepped from behind the curtain of the dressing room, modeling a black strapless dress that clung to her body in all the right places and was short enough to show off her long, toned legs. And a pair of black high heels completed the ensemble with gold bangles as the final touch.

"Miss St. Croix, you look absolutely astonishing!" Kira gushed, her face plastered in a gracious smile.

"I do, don't I?" she flipped her hair then turned to study her figure in the mirror. "I'll take the entire outfit. Add in the cashmere coat and the boots. Lee, anything?"

Jubilee glanced around, visibly disinterested. "Let's see. The tank top over there," she pointed to a dandelion yellow shirt, rimmed with a burnt rust stripe.

Monet scrutinized the selection, and after a moment, she gave a smile of approval. "Commendable selection. There may be hope for you yet." Remaining in the dress, she approached the counter and passed Kira her credit card.

"Oh, a Black Card?!" she gasped, truly surprised. Recomposing herself, she cleared her throat and swiped the card hurriedly. "I'll ring you up and bag your purchases, Miss St. Croix." Kira couldn't believe it—_The_ Monet St. Croix was in the new Versace store! She couldn't wait to tell her friend Amy, who for some reason loved her job in Snow Valley, and refused to even visit New York.

"Here you go, Miss St Croix! Please come back and visit us again soon," she flashed a wide smile and kept smiling long after Monet and Jubilee left.

II.

Pleased with the purchases, Monet and Jubilee left the Versace store, headed down the street, and ended up, at Jubilee's insistence, in a clothing store called Shampoo.

If Monet didn't know any better, she would have thought they were in a thrift store. The clothes hung about were tacky, loud, and preposterously logoed. She wouldn't be caught dead in anything from this store and hoped the Jubilee would hurry so they could leave the stifling place.

"I'ma try these outfits on," Jubilee announced from across the store then without waiting for a reply, dashed into the dressing room.

Monet thought about dragging Jubilee out of the dressing room and into a real store, but the day was for both of them, so she simply sat on a hard couch on the opposite side of the store. Crossing her legs, she sat still, preoccupying herself by focusing on her psychic abilities. Taking a deep breath, she practiced Jean Grey-Summer's techniques for erecting barriers, preventing unwanted intrusion into her mind.

The process was simple enough, but as she concentrated harder, she felt as if there were some kind of flaw in her barrier that could be exposed by someone skilled enough...

When she opened her eyes, Monet found herself flanked by two young women, whose apparel reflected the same trend found in the store.

The blond one giggled, then spoke first. "My friend and I were talking, and I had to just come over and tell you that you have the most beautiful hair ever!"

"I know," Monet tossed her head back, shaking her silken hair.

The other one's voice lowered as she closed the gap between herself and Monet. "We know that you're some kind of model or something. Runway or photo?" the olive-skinned friend said.

"Well, neither. I'm a student—"

"College? Which one? And you could totally be a model. You ever think about it?"

"Um—no, not really."

"So what kind of music do you listen to?"

"I—"

"Susie, don't be silly. You know that she listens to all the new stuff, don't you?"

"I don't—"

"I know you've seen that new movie with Matt Damon. Don't you think he's so hot?"

"I'm not sure—"

"Oh, why don't you tell us what new clothes are going to be in?"

Feeling overwhelmed and slightly dizzy, Monet stood. "Excuse me. My friend seems to be taking an extensive amount of time in the dressing room. I should probably go check on her," then without waiting for either of the girls to ask another question, she squeezed through them and crossed the store, combating the extreme urge to simply fly away.

Monet heard the girls say something behind her, but she didn't care. Reaching the dressing room, she banged on the door, her immense strength taking over.

Jubilee threw open the door. "Geez, Monet, like break down tha door or somethin'. I didn't like rush you when you spent like forever in that super-uppity store." Noticing her uncomfortable expression, Jubilee's tone softened slightly. "Dude, are ya okay? I thought I heard ya makin' friends out there, but ya totally look like you've been like punched in tha stomach. By like Juggernaut or something."

"I wasn't attempting to hasten your progress, Lee. I—I just…" Monet began but trailed off as she glanced about quickly then lowered her voice. "They made several inquiries that I found unable to adequately answer, regarding subjects that, though I'm diffident to actually disclose such a thing, I knew nothing about."

Jubilee rolled her eyes, pulling a pink t-shirt over a long-sleeved, white shirt. "Were they like askin' some kinda trick calculus questions? I mean, I thought you were all super-smart."

"I am," Monet snapped. "But the questions…they inquired about upcoming music and some obviously attractive gentleman in some movie. Then the latest street vogues. I—I was unable to adequately respond because I…well, I _ahem_ couldn't immediately discern a suitable response to their questions."

"Well, I figure that ya could've like just pulled tha info from their brains, right?"

"That's not what I'm saying."

"You always act like stuff like that is all beneath you because you're so perfect and rich. Of course ya wouldn't know the first thing about normal stuff. And let's be real for like a sec—we don't exactly like live a normal life, ya know?"

Monet figured that in her own unique way, Jubilee was trying to be comforting. Considering they weren't exactly friends, she respected and appreciated her concerted effort, but the response wasn't exactly reassuring, so Monet simply responded with a nod.

Jubilee barely noticed Monet's trepidation, her own eyes fixated on her reflection in a full-length mirror. She rotated left and right, getting as much of a view as possible of her selected outfit—a baby t-shirt with bold lettering over a long-sleeved shirt, retro mini skirt, and high-lace boots. Suddenly, sensing the uncomfortable silence, she spun around to face her teammate.

"Are ya still like bummed about it?"

Monet shook her head. "It is not in my nature to dwell on such asinine situations."

Jubilee gave a disbelieving snort. "Like whatever. Ya know, we're kind of a special breed bein' mutants and all. The world totally isn't ready ta be acceptin' of mutants, so we have ta like pretend that we're normal, until we have ta like save their butts from tha next creepo wantin' ta take over tha world. We're heroes for two secs afterwards, then boom, it's right back to bein' hated."

"The cyclic nature of our existence."

"But sometimes, it's like we miss out on bein' normal, doin' normal stuff. Like hangin' out and just bein' around folks our own age. There're times that I like miss that. But then, I know that we're doin' somethin' for tha greater good an' all that jazz. So, I guess it like makes it balance out in tha end, ya know? So you've jus' gotta be happy in your own skin and do what ya gotta do."

"Were attempting to console me or saying it for your own comfort?"

"Maybe a little bit of both," Jubilee somberly answered. "Hey, we're out in New York…today's totally not tha day ta be bummed out. Let's totally blow this place. I know a great café down the road…killer bubble tea."

"Bubble tea?"

"Oh puh-lease! Do not tell me that Ms. Rich Pants hasn't like experienced the liquid joy found in bubble tea!"

"I presumed that you wanted to get Chinese food. I would've allowed you to choose the restaurant," Monet said.

_Her attempts at being nice definitely need help,_ Jubilee thought to herself, ensuring that she didn't project it out to where Monet could hear her. "Nah. We'll totally be out here again…I wanna bring everyone along when we hit tha Chinese spot."

Monet paid for the outfits then followed Jubilee a few blocks down to a café. Once inside, they quickly found a table, the waiter approaching them almost simultaneously. Jubilee ordered a bubble tea, while she ordered a bottled water. Within two minutes, their drinks were on the table, and Jubilee was grinning.

"Ya gotta try this!"

"Jasmine green tea, powdered milk, and tapioca balls."

"Okay, you passed the quiz on what it is. Now taste it!"

"I was simply practicing my skills of analysis."

"Don't tell me—another random new power that you're jus' now tellin' us about."

"I've been practicing instantly analyzing the composition of items in the environment. I can only do simple things, such as your tea. I'm trying to refine it to identify the molecular composition of matter."

"Wow. Here already…before I drink it all. Unless it's like too weird for your sensitive insides."

Monet took the drink from Jubilee and drew a drink from the straw. Almost instantly, she leaped to her feet, clutching her throat as her face contorted in utter disgust. "Mon dieu! Those things were repulsive!" Patrons in the store immediately turned to the pair, and watched as she attempted to recover her composure.

"Okay, like cause a bigger scene, drama queen. It's jus' like tapioca balls, and they take some gettin' used to. I thought you were like totally hip ta everythin' in every culture on every planet. I thought you would've had stuff far worse."

"It—I was simply caught off guard," Monet defensively replied. "I would prefer something without solid matter in it."

Jubilee laughed. "Obviously, it's like not your cup of tea! Ha! I made a funny!"

Monet frowned, returning to her seat, ignoring the still gawking customers and workers. "That was the most awful joke I've ever heard you tell, Lee. You should've warned me about the tea."

"I thought your skills of analyzing would have like warned you."

Monet frowned. "Well, I've decided that bubble tea is not to my liking," she took a healthy sip of her Evian water. Glancing at her watch, she said, "We must to meet Jono soon. I suggest we use the subway to return to the rendezvous point."

"That would be cool."

Finishing up quickly at the café, Monet and Jubilee found an entrance for the subway about a block away. They quickly boarded the subway and in no time, the underground train sped off.

III.

Jubilee found herself sitting directly across from a young boy. A cute kid with large, curious brown eyes, dressed in overalls, he immediately took notice of her, and flashed a toothy smile, which she returned. Then they were trading funny faces with each other, each trying to top the other's comedic expressions. The boy loved every second of it, grinning happily after every face.

When they had run out of faces to make, Jubilee glanced around then brought her hands together, creating a mini fireworks show in the palms of her hands, hidden from the other passengers, except Monet. The boy's eyes widened with awe and his mouth went slack, failing to understand how the flashy bulbs simply existed in her hands.

"Lee, really. Aren't you always chastising me about flagrantly using my powers in the open? And here you are lighting fireworks for the world to witness. Anyone could take notice, and we cannot discern who may not react benevolently to people with our abilities. This train is much too undersized for such a confrontation."

"C'mon. He's just a kid. Besides, you're always flyin' around in public. Are you really tellin' me to—"

The door leading to the next car flew open and a group of men donning ski masks charged into the car. They held their guns high, as the passengers began to gasp and panic.

"Everybody, sit down!" the man who must have been the leader shouted. "Just stay calm. We only want to take a few minutes of your time. Cooperate and no one will get hurt, got it?"

Whimpers and quieted sobs were the only sounds that could be heard throughout the car.

"We're here for the betterment of our kind…normal humans. Senator Kelly, a brilliant politician—the papers claimed a normal human shot him, but that's bullshit. We know the truth…mutants killed him because he wasn't putting up with their shit any longer. He refused to allow that scum to infest our streets, our schools, our workplace with their weird powers or freakish looks. Mutants must be stopped…the assassination of Senator Kelly was just the beginning. If we don't make a stand now, you and your families will be next."

Jubilee leaned in close to Monet and whispered, "Freakin' nutcases. M, can ya take these fools out with a psi-bolt or somethin'? They're really gettin' on my nerves."

"The train's full of too many people, the psi-bolt would render everyone in here unconscious and possibly do more damage than good. I don't want to chance mind-control, since they're pointing loaded weapons at these people. One mistake could cost someone their life."

"So what's the plan? Your skills of analysis comin' in handy yet?"

Monet narrowed her eyes at the gunmen. "I have about a seventy-four percent point one-eight chance of disarming them physically as opposed to a thirty-one point nine-four percent change of disarming them psychically."

"Dude, I thought you were like super perfect? Only seventy-four percent?"

"As opposed to your point seven-eight chance of disarming even one."

"What?!"

"What are you two whispering about?" the leader of the group directed toward Monet and Jubilee. He took aggressive steps toward them then hovered, lasciviously gazing at the pair.

"Well, like if ya really wanna know, she was giving me the scoop on the like latest Tampax brand out there," Jubilee replied, with an overdose of attitude.

"Smart ass," he commented, and almost simultaneously, he swiftly backhanded Jubilee. She reeled from the strike, more from the surprise than the force. But Monet knew that Jubilee meant to get hit—she could distinctly remember Sean's words from earlier that morning, _sometimes, ye have t' take a hit or two t' get an openin'_. Monet took advantage of the momentary opening, swiping the gun from his hand and almost in a single motion dislodging the magazine, while palming a few bullets.

"What the hell—" but before he could say anything, a multitude of mini fireworks exploded around his head, blinding and deafening him. His ski mask was singed from the attack, which partially burned his face as he went down, howling in pain.

Jubilee gave the gunman a swift kick to the face. "Hit me again, and I'll like roast your boy-boy parts."

Monet stepped forward, showcasing her strength by crushing the gun in one hand. To the other gunmen, who looked slightly perplexed, she demanded, "Put your guns down, or you will be hurt."

One of the gunmen stepped forward. "Mutants! I coulda smelt you miles away. Take em out!" he shouted. Almost in unison, their firearms were raised directly at Monet and Jubilee.

"Let it be on record that I gave all of you ample and adequate warning," she nonchalantly said as she flung the bullets in her hand towards the gunmen. The ammunition sailed through the air, nearly the same speed as if they had actually been fired. Each bullet tore through the four gunmen's weapons, completely rendering them inoperable.

"I can't fire!" one of them said in a panic.

"Screw it," the gunmen in front pulled out a combat knife from somewhere inside his coat. "I guess we'll just have ta teach 'em the hard way."

"We must maintain the conflict within an uncomfortably close proximity—there's not enough space to combat them without inadvertently hurting any civilians," Monet said over her shoulder to Jubilee. She glanced toward the rest of the passengers in the subway car, who were pressed against the sides and locked in their seats. Women held onto their children for dear life, while the men tried to put themselves in between the fighting and the other passengers. To the gunmen, she said, "I shall not repeat myself. Do not put these innocent bystanders in harm's way for your own egotistical, misguided principles."

"We'll see how high and mighty you are when I cut out your tongue, mutie," the knife-wielding ex-gunman charged them.

"This one's mine, M," Jubilee said as she sprang forward, rolled, and delivered a low kick to his groin. Then she reached up and using his own weight against him, reared back and threw him over her. He crashed into the rear door of the car head-first and hit the ground without moving again.

Meanwhile, Monet engaged the others, remembering her fight with Sean earlier that day. Instead of using her super-strength, which could have easily crushed limbs, she parried a swipe then used him as a springboard to kick his other partner in the face. Landing gracefully, Monet twisted the madman's arm around his back then using an iota of strength, dislocated his shoulder with a sickening pop. He cried out and hit the ground, rolling around in excruciating pain.

As Monet effortlessly defeated her targets, Jubilee wasn't having as easy of a time. The last madman had quickly picked up where his friend had left off and charged Jubilee. With the grace of a gymnast, she planted a solid high kick to his face then a forceful kick to his stomach. He staggered back, but rebounded quickly, much to her surprise. She felt a flash of pain in her shoulder, and it only took her a moment to realize the madman had slashed her with the knife and was going in for another strike.

She blocked it high then landed a clean uppercut to his jaw. He stumbled, and this time, Jubilee didn't give him a chance. She followed up with a flurry of punches, but the madman proved too quick as he blocked then reached in, grasping her hair. Yanking downward, he threw her to the hard floor then whipped another gun out of an ankle holster.

"Mutant filth! I'll make sure there's one less of you to infect our world."

Monet heard the threat and knew that Jubilee was in trouble. She spun around quickly and saw the madman with a gun pointed at a downed Jubilee. There was no time for calculation, and no time to hesitate. Without a second thought or doubt in her mind, Monet launched herself toward the madman, flying past the passengers in a blur.

The madman pulled the trigger.

Everything crawled to a standstill as Monet kept her eyes pinned on the bullet. The next few seconds were hazy, but in the end, she stood at the opposite end of the subway car, cradling Jubilee in her arms. The gunman hit the ground, his neck bent in an awkward position, and the gun clattered to the ground.

The passengers turned angry, accusing glares toward Monet. But she could have cared less as she was slowly pinpointing every thought pattern within the car. Then with nothing more than a slight sigh, every passenger froze, their eyes vacant.

Bags and Jubilee in tow, Monet fled the subway car, leaping out into the tunnel. Thankful for her acute vision, even in the dark, she navigated to the nearest exit then propped Jubilee against the wall, in an inconspicuous place.

Jubilee stirred, opening her eyes slightly. "M? Is that you?"

"What kind of an inquiry is that, Lee? Of course it is. We've only spent the entire day in one another's company."

She was ready to reply, when a sharp pain tore through her shoulder. "Ow, my arm!"

Monet rolled her eyes as she finished tying a piece of cloth around Jubilee's arm. "Surely, you have sustained more severe wounds than this when you were with the X-Men. There's hardly a scratch underneath there."

Jubilee glanced around, alarmed. "Like where are we?"

"We're a mere few blocks from the rendezvous point. If you can move, we should. It would not be prudent to remain in the subway for much longer."

"Wait!" Jubilee gasped in horror. "Like oh my gawd! That creepo was gonna like shoot me! No, I swear I heard the gun go off!" She inspected herself frantically for a bullet wound, fearing that it had somehow lodged itself in her stomach or someplace worse, and shock simply kept her from feeling it right now.

Monet held up a bullet, studying it with morbid curiosity. "I'm simply amazed by the feats I can accomplish. Aren't you?"

"Most of the time, I would have somethin' smart to say back to ya. But this time, all I can say is I owe ya one."

"You don't owe me anything. Isn't that why we're a team?"

Jubilee wasn't sure what to say. Finally, she responded, "Yeah. Yeah—you're right. We are a team, aren't we? But what about the passengers? Aren't they gonna tell the police about us?"

Monet smiled wickedly. "Do you really think I would leave loose ends dangling?"

"The Frosty mind-wipe thingy?! Are you like kiddin' me?"

"What else would you have had me do? This situation had nothing to do with us…we were victims of circumstance, so to speak. Yet, the police and the passengers would have found a way to blame it on us and the school. If you want to debate the ethics of being a psychic with me, do it when I haven't had my life and my teammate's life threatened. For now, deal with it."

Jubilee couldn't condone what Monet had done, yet she understood, and wondered if she had psychic powers, would she do the same thing in the interest of the school. What lengths were they willing to go to protect the school?

Gingerly standing, Jubilee said, "Let's just get back. I think I've had enough of New York for one day."

Arm in arm, with a slightly better understanding of each other, Monet and Jubilee headed out of the subway, as the police rushed past them.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional

This chapter is based off of Generation X #72


	11. A Single Day: Sean, Angelo, and Ethan

I.

_"Th' students are certainly improvin',"_ Sean said to himself as he pulled on a pair of hiking boots then pulled his jeans down over them. He replayed the morning's training session, especially impressed with Angelo's quick thinking. It was earlier in the week that Sean had advised Angelo to start experimenting with his powers, thinking outside of the conventional stretching of his skin.

But Monet, she was good—arguably one of the most powerful students they had, but her own arrogance would be her undoing. Though with the amount of abilities she had, it would be quite a task to defeat her. Still, he wished that she would tone her attitude down just a bit, which tended to alienate her from the other students more often than not. Of course, that could be her intention. Then he remembered back to his early days with the X-Men, being teamed with individuals such as Wolverine, Sunfire, and Warpath, who had attitudes that made Monet's egotism pale in comparison.

Sean smiled to himself, remembering his first mission with the team and realized just how far all of them had come since then. The X-Men grew from a single, ad hoc team into an entire family of superheroes, becoming a global force to be reckoned with and respected amongst the superhero and government communities. While he was glad for his transition to a mentoring and teaching role within Xavier's, he missed the action and danger of being on an active team roster. He only hoped that this new generation of mutants—of X-Men—would stand the test of time, following in the footsteps of their elders.

His mind strayed to Moira MacTaggert and the long amount of time that had passed since they had last spoken. With being so busy with the school, and she being heavily involved with various research efforts, quite a few months had passed without contact between them.

_I'll jus' call the lass real quick,_ he smiled as he anticipated her light Scottish accent and almost singsong voice. Using the phone on the desk, he tapped out the long distance number strictly from memory, then leaned back in the leather seat as the gentle tone of a ring sounded on the other end. The phone clicked twice then another familiar voice answered.

"Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. This is Professor Charles Xavier."

Surprised, Sean laughed. "Charles! I didnae expect ye t' be on Muir Island. We were actually plannin' on seein' ye sometime this week in regards t' th' kids. What the devil are ye doin' there? Has Moira had a breakthrough?"

There was a pause, then Charles responded, "We've routing all the calls from Muir Island to the mansion for the time being."

Sean slapped his head. "Ach, why did ye nae tell me Moira was comin' t' th' mansion? She's probably workin' with good ol' Hank. She should o' called me t' let me know she'd be in town. I bet the lass was plannin' on surprisin' me. It's been a wee bit too long since we've seen each other."

"Sean," Charles solemnly said. "There's been an incident. Moira was fatally wounded in an attack on the island—"

Sean felt the blood drain from his face and a hard knot form in his stomach. Charles said more, but he heard nothing. _Moira…fatally wounded,_ he kept repeating over and over in his mind. He couldn't believe it…no, he wouldn't believe it. There must've been a mistake. Moira was just fine…in her lab…on Muir Island…yes, that's where she was. Alive and well. Charles was confused. Nothing could possibly happen to her...

"Sean, are you there?" Charles called into the phone.

The receiver slipped from his hand and clattered to the ground, as reality settled in. _No, Charles isn't wrong. Moira is…dead._

"Sean!"

But he didn't hear the Professor's call. The motions of grabbing the keys for the jeep, climbing the stairs, and walking out the front door didn't register in his mind. All he kept seeing was Moira's face. And thinking that he would never get the chance to see that lovely face ever again.

_Why? Why did it have t' be her? For all th' good she's done, she didn't deserve to die. No, why couldn't it've been me? I should o' been there wit' her. _His thoughts whirled as he stormed to the car, his shock turning into anger.

Angelo and Ethan both spied Sean from their place outside, hanging out halfway between the jeep and the front door.

"Yo!" Angelo waved, but pulled back his hand when Sean didn't acknowledge him. He gave Ethan a puzzled glance, and he simply shrugged in response. Leading the way, Angelo tried to catch up with their instructor.

Ethan called, "Hey, Mr. Cassidy, is everything okay?" But there was no response, and he watched as Sean climbed into the jeep, slammed the door forcefully, and cranked the engine.

Shrugging, Angelo hopped in the passenger seat, while Ethan took the backseat. In a flash, the jeep peeled out of the driveway and tore down the street. Ethan made sure his seatbelt was fastened as Angelo quickly strapped himself in.

"Hey, Sean, what's the deal?" Angelo asked.

Sean didn't hear the question, his face set in a hard, grim stare, his knuckles white from the deathly grip on the steering wheel. The speedometer climbed steadily as the wind whipped through the jeep, and the landscape whizzed by as leaves were thrown to the side by the speeding vehicle.

The next few hours were an uncomfortable silence as they sped down the highway. Ethan was ready to voice his protest against Sean's behavior, when he noticed the exit for Boston approaching and didn't see any signs of deceleration. "Ange, we're going to miss the exit!" he alerted.

"The exit!" Angelo yelled. "Sean, you're missin' the turn!"

As if pulled back into consciousness, Sean suddenly snapped out of his trance and understood the ramifications of Angelo's exclamation. "Dammit!" he cursed, as he cut the wheel hard. The jeep whipped around the bend and for a moment, the jeep threatened to careen out of control. It fishtailed and swerved, the tires screaming in protest, but he corrected just enough to balance it out and keep them on the road.

Driving at a slower speed, Sean let out a heavy sigh.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Angelo yelled.

"Tis none o' yuir business."

"Like hell it isn't our business," Ethan snapped. "Especially when you decide that you're going to drive recklessly, endangering us and anybody else on the road."

Closing his eyes for a brief second, Sean took a deep, cleansing breath. Then focused on the road again, taking a left turn, away from the skyscrapers of the downtown area. "We're goin' t' stop at an Irish pub Ah used t' hang out in. After a pint, Ah'll tell ye what happened. And Ah'm sorry fer th' drivin'."

"Don't worry about it," Angelo said, hearing the sudden shift in Sean's tone. Something serious had happened between this morning and now, and he was sure that whatever it was couldn't be undone.

About ten minutes later, the trio slid into a booth in the dimly lit pub, Ryan's Daughter. There were a few people there, but no one that would cause them any trouble.

"Now, first, this does nae get back t' Emma. Second, dinnae think that Ah'm goin' t' be buyin' ye beers. Tis only this one time, jus' because Ah dinnae like drinkin' alone. Understood?"

"Aye!" Angelo and Ethan answered simultaneously, in their best Irish accent, as all three clinked their mugs together. They took a sip, Angelo nodding in approval while Ethan made a sour face.

"What kind of beer is this?" Ethan asked.

"It's Guinness, a real beer, not that watered down stuff ye might be used to," Sean said, cracking a half-smile.

Angelo nodded. "I've never had it before, but it's pretty good."

Sean's expression softened, and he locked eyes with Angelo and Ethan. "Ah guess Ah should give ye both an apology. An' explain what happened."

They both took a sip of their drinks, keeping the strictest attention on Sean.

"Moira MacTaggert…"

"Isn't that your old flame?" Angelo asked.

"Aye. We shared some good times together."

Ethan narrowed his eyes. "Did you get dumped, Mr. Cassidy?"

Sean gave a cynical smirk. "I wish. Moira…Moira's dead."

The entire room seemed to fall silent and the temperature dropped. Ethan and Angelo glanced at each other then turned back to him. Their teacher's shoulders slumped as he took a long gulp of his beer.

"I—I didn't know," Ethan stammered, his face hot with embarrassment. "I wasn't trying to be disrespectful. I'm sorry."

"I didnae take it that way, lad. I just found out this mornin' from th' Professor. Ah don't know th' details, but at this point, Ah dinnae care. Ah always keep m' personal life away from all o' ye, but Ah have t' get this off m' chest."

Ethan and Angelo took another sip, implicitly acknowledging their willingness to listen without judgment.

"I loved her. No matter the distance or time apart, Ah always knew that in m' heart, Moira was the only lass for me. After m' first wife passed away, Ah dinnae think Ah would ever love again. Ah immersed m'self in work, but after Ah first laid eyes on her, Ah knew that she was goin' t' steal m' heart. Now, she's gone, and Ah never got th' chance t' say goodbye." Sean took another drink then stared at his beer for a long while, letting the silence linger.

"Tis difficult for ye lads t' understand, but someday, when yuir older, ye may."

Angelo replied, "You know my story. I lost everyone I loved…my family, my friends, and Tores. I only saw Tores when we were in L.A. during the Operation Zero Tolerance thing, but we haven't talked since. To all of them, I'm dead. And in a way, they're all dead to me. It's what keeps me from losing it."

Ethan added, "My mother died when I was ten years old. My sister was eight. At the time, my father didn't cope with it well, so in a way, I lost him too. It was just my sister and I, but even the two of us grew apart, leaving me alone to figure out life in general. For me, I can understand and relate to both of you, because my losses have been similar."

"Ach. Ah always forget how times have changed. Used t' be the young were carefree and lighthearted. Now, ye are faced with so many things so early." Sean downed the last of his beer, then said, "They're supposed t' be meetin' me here in a few minutes. Ah would rather th' two o' ye wait for me in th' jeep."

Ethan frowned. "It sounds shady. What's this meeting all about?"

"Dinnae worry, nothin' Ah cannae handle. That's why we're meetin' in a public place…I dinnae trust these fellows as far as Ah could throw 'em."

Angelo and Ethan finished off their drink then left Sean alone. As the exited the pub, a group of four men, worn and rough-looking, entered the bar.

"Those are probably the guys Sean is supposed to be meeting," Ethan surmised.

"This is some shady shit. What's Sean mixed up in?" Angelo asked, more rhetorically than anything else. "He's not usually this secretive."

Ethan shook his head. "I don't like it. And if Sean can't trust those guys, he may be putting himself in more danger than he realizes."

"C'mon, amigo. He was Interpol. And an X-Man."

"That doesn't seem to count for much these days. We're kind of X-Men, and we can't even take care of someone like Mina Laroché."

"The chick that kicked your ass?"

"She caught us off guard," Ethan hastily corrected. "Anyways, let's just keep a lookout for Sean. He may be a little off because of everything that's happened."

"Well, you look out for Sean. I'm gonna check out these chicas coming our way. Watch my mojo at work, and maybe you'll learn somethin'," Angelo grinned as the girls advanced. The two girls strode toward them, oblivious to the world outside as they chatted back and forth with an occasional giggle. The most animated one had a dusky complexion and dark hair that seemed to stir at the slightest head movement. In contrast, her blue-eyed, fair-skinned friend had sharp features, giving her a more edgy look. Yet, her soft smile and sparkle in her eye told of a much softer side.

"Hey, ladies," Angelo narrowed his eyes, putting on his best accent and debonair gaze. But when the two girls simply looked at each other and giggled, he internally groaned, realizing how lame he sounded. The girls continued on their path, dashing across the street and into a small convenience store.

"So what lesson was I supposed to take away from that? How to not pick up girls? Got it," Ethan said, giving Angelo a hearty slap on the back.

"Dios! I sounded lame as hell."

"Maybe you could throw some dating simulator training in along with your Danger Room sessions. Or, maybe you can create a program to help—"

"Shove it," Angelo shot, eliciting a hearty laugh from Ethan.

"Well, Player, you want to grab a snack or something from that store? I figure that Sean will take a few more minutes."

"Sure, why not? Maybe they've got game for sale in there."

Making their way across the street, Ethan waved to the man outside of the store sweeping the sidewalk before they entered the store, the sound of tinkling bells trailing them. The small convenience store was clean and well-maintained, with full shelves and bright lighting. A pleasant looking woman greeted them from behind the counter.

Ethan went down the chip aisle and grabbed a small beg of pretzels, when he suddenly noticed someone was staring at him. Turning around, he saw the olive-complexioned girl look away then blush. He gave a friendly wave, then advanced down the aisle toward her, stopping just shy of right next to her, eying the various chips and candy. When the girl spoke, it caught him off guard.

"Um. I know that we don't know each other, but can I borrow a dollar? I wanted to grab a snack but I left my wallet in the car."

For a second, Ethan didn't say anything, still surprised that the girl had spoken to him, considering her shy demeanor. Then he replied casually, "Grab whatever you like. I'll just pay for it with mine."

"Really? Thanks. I'm Danielle by the way," she flashed a beautiful smile before grabbing a bag of pretzels and handing it to Ethan. "Weren't you with the cute Hispanic guy a few minutes ago?"

"Well, I'm not sure if he's cute or not, but yeah, we're waiting for a friend of ours in the pub across the street."

"Looks like he's helping my friend out," Danielle motioned to Britney laughing as Angelo laughed along. "I haven't seen you around here before. Are you new?"

"Yeah. I'm actually attending Xavier's."

"Really? I've heard that creepy, strange kids go there, but you don't seem creepy or strange."

"Maybe you just don't know me well enough yet."

"Well, I wouldn't mind the chance," she smiled.

Ethan felt his face grow hot. "Our friend—in the pub…we should probably get back," he said. He knew from Danielle's giggle that his face was beet-red, and then he kind of stumbled, tripping over his own feet. "Uhh…feet. Yeah, almost forgot I had them."

"So, you're a creepy, strange, clumsy guy," Danielle said as they walked down the aisle.

"Hey, there are some good qualities there too. Somewhere," he smiled. Ethan was flattered by the attention, but at the same time, he kept seeing Paige's face. He sighed internally, shaking his head. _What the hell is wrong with me?_

They got to the register on the tail-end of a joke Angelo had told, and the duo were laughing heartily. "Danielle, this guy is cute and funny."

"My guy's cute, but creepy, strange, and clumsy," Danielle threw a smile in Ethan's direction. "But there's something about that combination I like."

Ethan blushed again as he caught a knowing wink from Angelo. "Yeah…umm…Sean's in the pub. We've got to get back," he stammered.

Angelo shook his head and laughed before paying for everything. Once outside, they parted ways, with the girls telling them to come around more often. Ethan and Angelo started to make their way back to the pub.

"You looked a little uncomfortable, amigo. What's up?"

"I don't know. I mean, I'm used to the attention, but I kept thinking about Paige."

"Heh. You like her, you don't have to lie to me."

"I mean, she's hot. But I don't want a girlfriend. And definitely not the ex-girlfriend of one of my teammates. That's asking for trouble."

"If you don't plan on dating her, then ya gotta stop actin' taken around other girls. Danielle was practically all over you, but you were all embarrassed."

"I know. I can't say that I've had this problem before. Maybe I—" Ethan stopped as he saw the Jeep's windows broken. "What the hell?" Ethan ran over, trailed closely behind by Angelo and saw that the windows had been broken in, but at first glance, he couldn't tell why.

"I don't like this. We better find Sean."

Ethan nodded as they ran across the street and burst into the pub, only to find the inside looking as if there had been hit by a whirlwind. Table and chairs were overturned and beers were spilled all over the floor, but there was no one immediately in sight. Running to the bar, he glanced around and saw the bartender lying unconscious on the ground and the waitress cowering the in the corner, her mascara streaked down her face from tears.

"What happened?" Ethan asked.

The waitress shook her head, holding back a sob. "I don't know. Those rough guys came in here and started arguing with the Irish guy. Then there was this awful scream and they were fighting. Some of them roughed up the bartender and threatened me not to call the police. They dragged him out the back door and…and…I didn't know what to do."

Ethan replied, "Just calm down. Call the police. You'll be fine, trust me. Let them know to send an ambulance for the bartender too. Can you do that?"

The waitress nodded quickly, sniffling.

"Angelo, looks like we've got a problem."

"No shit, hombre. Looks like those guys couldn't be trusted."

"They took Sean. But they couldn't have gotten far. Let's go!"

Ethan and Angelo dashed out of the pub, in time to see a car squeal out of the alley, turn, then speed off. In the backseat, they saw Sean stuffed in between two large men.

"Shady shit I tell you," Angelo said, as he hopped in the driver's seat, while Ethan jumped in the passenger's side. Angelo patted around then checked underneath the seat.

"No keys?!" Ethan asked.

"Grab a flathead screwdriver out of the tool box under your seat." Ethan handed it to Angelo, watching curiously as Angelo shoved it into the ignition. "There're some things that you don't forget," he said as he wiggled it a few times, and in response the jeep sprang to life. Shifting the car into drive, Angelo mashed the gas and sped off, hoping that they could catch up to Sean's abductors.

II.

Sean could barely breathe. The sound repressing muzzle they had clamped over his mouth and nose seemed to be made of leather, Kevlar, or something that didn't let air through easily. All he could do is glare at his captors, and hope that one of them would make a mistake that he could take advantage of. But the chances of that were slim as the big one in the passenger seat turned around and pointed a gun at him.

"You have some big balls to come strolling back in here like you own the place, Irish," Tony waved his weapon, taking pleasure from the Irishman's angry expression.

"Maybe he's just stupid," the larger, dopey sounding one, said from the immediate right. Rocky was his name, Sean remembered briefly from the introductions inside the pub. Malone was the thin driver, and Cecil was the large one on his left.

Tony became more aggressive, pressing the gun to Sean's forehead. "You can't use your little yelling trick on us with this muzzle on. Now, you can cooperate which will make things easy, or you can be stupid and make things hard."

Sean only narrowed his eyes as he pulled the gun back and began to fiddle with his phone.

_Damn, they must've found it in the Jeep!_ Sean cursed. He had purposefully left the device in the jeep to avoid anything being connected with the Massachusetts Academy. But he hadn't accounted for being overpowered and his abilities stifled. But they didn't seem to have seen Angelo or Ethan, which was a good sign. He hoped the duo would summon the police and stay out of this. But he knew in his gut that those two would probably try to do the hero thing. And maybe that would be for the better.

Cecil jerked Sean's arm. "Yeah, you used to be a bad ass in Interpol. You arrested and jailed our family and friends. Did you really think we'd cut a money deal with you? You musta hit rock bottom, Cassidy. But this's gonna be your last mistake."

"Gettin' all fancy-schmacy on us, with this gizmo," Tony said as he powered it up. As he scrolled through it, an entry caught his eye, _Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters_. "Now this looks interestin'. Xavier's, huh? They're sittin' on a pretty penny. We might have to pay them a little visit." Tony chuckled sadistically.

The two on either side of him had relaxed, and Tony was wrapped up in the palm pilot. If there was any time to make a move, it was now.

Using strength he didn't know he still had, Sean landed a sharp elbow in Cecil's midsection, eliciting a surprised grunt from him. At the same time, he went for the man's gun hand, twisting it sharply, satisfied when the man cried out in pain as his wrist broke in several places. The final blow was a quick elbow to the face, and feeling a sickening crunch underneath, a burst of glory rose as blood gushed.

Rocky was slow to react. Too slow. Sean whipped around with another elbow, this time, catching his opponent directly in his mouth. Grunting, the bigger man fell back against the door, dazed.

"Bastard," Tony said as he pulled the trigger.

Sean expected it, dodged, and the bullet completely missed him, tearing through the rear windshield. But the two on either side of him were recovering much faster than he anticipated, and Tony was already grabbing at Sean's throat. His chance at escaping had just evaporated.

III.

"They're shooting at us?!" Ethan exclaimed. He looked at the bullet hole with disbelief, as his heart threatened to beat right out of his chest. He had never—absolutely never—been shot at before. Not with a real gun. Lasers in laser tag or water guns were one thing, but a gun was fatal and deadly, snapping him into the unmistakable gravity and peril of the situation.

"That's what it looks like," Angelo calmly responded.

"Why the hell are you so calm? They're shooting at us!"

"I grew up around gangs, man. I've been through a lot worse…getting' shot at is an everyday thing where I hung out. And that's what these assholes don't realize. If that's how they want to do it, that's fine by me."

Ethan steadied himself as Angelo stomped on the accelerator, closing the gap between them and the car in front of them.

IV.

"Hold him the hell down, you morons!" Tony pointed the gun at Sean's head as he struggled against the two goons grasping his arms. "You're still tryin' to play a bad ass, aren't ya, Irish? You're not in Interpol anymore. You're in the streets. And when you're in the streets, you're just like anybody else." Placing the barrel of the gun on top of Sean's thigh, Tony pulled the trigger without hesitation.

Blood splattered everywhere as a muffled scream filled the car.

From the driver's seat, Malone said, "Hey, Tony. Ya might want ta think about where you're firing that gun. You coulda hit the gas tank. Let's be a little smarter, okay?"

"Whatever," Tony said, grinning. He barely heard Malone's warning, completely absorbed in Sean's fading scream. Sweat and blood trickled down the Irishman's face, and Tony could feel the anticipation growing of all the other torturous things they were going to do to Sean.

Cecil and Rocky snickered as they held his arms tighter, but Sean was done struggling. The pain pulsed from his leg, and he could feel the blood seeping from the wound, soaking his jeans, creating a puddle at his left foot.

"The games are just gettin' started. Now, first things first, gimme the password to your little gizmo. Now."

Sean managed to mumble something that was further distorted by the muzzle.

"What did you say?"

Sean's muffled response was louder. And there was no question that he said, _Fuck you!_

Tony reacted violently, hitting Sean across the face with the gun. "I won't ask you again. What is the password?"

Hesitantly, Sean held up a hand, then made the gestures for six-one-six-one-nine-seven-five.

"Seems that ya've come to your senses. Don't think we're gonna go easy on ya. We've got a long night ahead of us." Tony hastily put in the code, and a warning flashed on the screen, Security Lockout Initiated. Mobile Device Will Be Purged. Grounds Security Activated: Level – Extreme. Suddenly the messages disappeared, and the device was powerless. "What?!" Tony mashed the buttons, but to no avail. The device was nothing more than a useless paperweight. Tony's eyes flared as he caught Sean's expression, almost a gloating grin, despite the extreme pain he was in.

"You bastard! I'm through with you!" Tony's voice escalated to a maniacal tirade as he pointed the gun directly at Sean. Cecil and Rocky were holding him much too tightly, and he felt weak from the blood loss. There was no way he could save himself from this next shot.

V.

"I know I heard another gunshot," Ethan said to Angelo. "We've got to get closer."

"I know," Angelo shortly responded. _Keep it together, hombre. You can do this…no different from back home. No sweat. I've done this hundreds of times. They've got Tores…no! This isn't L.A. They're all gone…Sean's in there. They've got Sean. And they're gonna kill him if you don't get your shit together._

Ethan said nothing, as he watched Angelo's expression change from slight panic to determination.

"We're gonna save Sean. You ready for this?"

Ethan nodded. "Yeah. Let's mess these guys up."

Angelo jammed on the accelerator once again and caught up to the vehicle but didn't slow down. Instead, he let the jeep ram right into the back of the car, and the clash of metal on metal resounded through both vehicles. Ethan watched closely as the thug in the passenger seat, who was turned around with a gun pointed at Sean, lost his balance and dropped the weapon.

"What the fuck was that?!" Malone screamed. He checked his mirrors and saw the jeep coming up alongside the car. "Tony, those punks are following us. I thought you said he was alone."

"They're kids, Malone. Run their asses off the road. Or shoot them. Cecil, Rocky." Tony motioned for the both of them to act. The both pulled out their guns and opened fire on the jeep.

"Dammit!" Ethan ducked as bullets hit the side of the jeep and sailed overhead. "Angelo!"

Angelo cut the wheel sharply, slamming into the side of their car. The car swerved, but the driver swerved, corrected, then continued to speed down the street.

"Grab the wheel!" Angelo said as he extended the skin on both his hands through the passenger window into the driver's window of the other car. Ethan could barely slither his arms around Angelo to hold the wheel straight, but managed to keep it from veering too far away from the opposite car, despite not really being able to see. Wrapping his skin around the wheel, and trapping the driver's hands as well, Angelo yanked the steering wheel, causing the other car to turn sharply. Much too sharply to recover from.

Angelo yanked his skin back as the other car skidded, turned sideways, then slammed into a tree with a loud _crunch_. Coming to a screeching halt, Angelo and Ethan leaped from the jeep as the thugs staggered out of the car. Neither one of them said anything as they took on their opponents. Angelo created a whip-like weapon with a thick mass of skin on the end, wielding it precisely as he struck the two thugs over and over, leaving them bloody and unconscious on the ground. Meanwhile, Ethan used his super-strength and speed to overpower his two opponents, knowing that during the fight, he broke their arms and probably a leg or two.

Once they were done, both of the boys ran over to the car, and found Sean lying motionless on the backseat. Their blood ran cold as they stared at their unmoving, deathly pale teacher.

"Sean?" Angelo whispered.

Ethan reached in a pulled off the muzzle, immediately checking for air passing through his nose or mouth. "Angelo, he's not breathing!"

Then Sean coughed, sucking in a deep gulp of air. "Angelo. Ethan. M' leg," he murmured. Ethan looked down and saw the copious amount of blood in the backseat of the car. "Sean, just hold on," Ethan said as he tore his shirt , creating a makeshift dressing. He placed it over the wound and pressed down, which elicited a wince and groan from Sean.

Angelo was already using the new cell phone to call for an ambulance. Hopefully, they would get there quickly. The woman that took the call told him to keep pressure on the wound and not to remove the dressing. If the blood soaked through, just put more dressing on top of the old dressing, which were her final instructions as she abruptly hung up.

"An ambulance is on the way. Hang in there, Sean."

Sean managed a weak smile. "Both o' ye, ye did well. Proud o' ye. Like m' own kids…sons Ah ne'er had."

"Save your strength," Ethan ordered as he placed more dressing over the wound and continued to press down.

"Ah'm sorry. The school…financial trouble. Ah dinnae want Emma goin' to her sister…thought Ah could handle it…didn't mean for this t' happen."

Angelo and Ethan now understood Sean's clandestine meeting with the thugs, and why he was being so secretive.

Sean's gaze turned toward the sky. "Moira, Ah want t' be with ye. Soon, not yet, but soon…" he closed his eyes, hoping that Moira was looking down at him with her loving smile.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional

This chapter is based off of Generation X #73


	12. A Single Day: Gaia, Kiana, Lily, Vanessa

I.

Lily Madison spooned a large hunk of strawberry ice cream into her mouth, letting it melt slowly, savoring the ripe strawberries and fresh cream, before turning to her companions, Kiana Asahara, Vanessa Wallace, and Gaia Sophronia. They had arrived in Snow Valley about an hour ago, and she insisted that their first stop be Icy Delight, the same ice cream parlor Tom Corsi had brought her to after her unannounced arrival.

The headmasters of the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters released the student body for the day, allowing them to travel about without supervision. While some of the students opted to head to New York or Boston, Lily decided that she wanted to spend the day in Snow Valley.

The city was entirely new to her, and she wanted the chance to explore and get to know her new home. And today seemed like the perfect time to do so. After recruiting Vanessa, Gaia, and Kiana to go with her, the girls requested Emma's driver take them into the city.

Laughing and joking all the way, they were jovial and talkative, excited to actually enjoy themselves without the fear of a looming threat or tons of homework.

After touring some of the downtown area, the girls entered Icy Delight. Olivia Stine, the owner, and her daughter, Alyssa, recognized Lily immediately and greeted them warmly. Once they ordered, Kiana secured a comfortable booth toward the back of the establishment, next to a large panel window overlooking the street. Alyssa doubled as their waitress and brought over their orders, but the excited chatter kept the girls from immediately delving into their treats.

It wasn't until Lily urged everyone to eat did they actually partake of their respective desserts. "So what do you guys think? Do you like it?" she asked, holding her breath in anticipation of the verdict.

Vanessa took a small sip of her shake and smiled. "This shake is amazing! I've got to stay away from this place. Too many more of these shakes, and I won't fit into that training uniform." She shuddered as she imagined shimmying her lumpy, misshapen body into the rather snug team outfit, every unnatural roll outlined and highlighted in the most unflattering way. "Yeah, not too many of these shakes at all," she concluded, dismayed and disgusted at the vision.

Lily giggled as if she could see her friend's comical, totally fictitious image. She always admired Vanessa's toned frame and visible abdominal muscles. There was absolutely no way she could ever gain enough weight to even remotely fill out the uniform in a negative way. If anything, Vanessa's uniform was the most flattering, gaining her admiration.

In response, Lily said, "There's nothing wrong with a little bit every now and then though, right, Kiana?"

Kiana took a healthy spoonful of her banana split. "Yes, the dessert here is delicious. This is probably the best one I've ever had."

While the other girls had a pleasant smile, Gaia eyed her vanilla ice cream cone with suspicion. "This tasty treat has managed to give me a severe headache. Is this some kind of weapon?"

The other three girls laughed, much to Gaia's surprise. As the laughter died down, she looked expectantly at her companions, waiting for an explanation.

Taking the hint, Vanessa said, "That's what's called brain freeze. Don't eat it so fast, and you'll be fine."

"Brain freeze?" she gasped, genuinely shocked. "You mean, this edible thing is capable of freezing my brain?!"

Kiana shook her head hopelessly. "Not literally, Gaia. It has something to do with blood vessels in the roof of your mouth. Honestly, it hurts only for a moment…you'll be fine afterwards."

"Hmmm…I shall take your advice, Vanessa, and heed your teachings, Kiana." Gaia took a much smaller bite of her ice cream and smiled afterward, content that the throbbing at the front of her head did not reoccur.

Taking a more serious expression, Lily said, "You know, I'm concerned about Mike, Vincent, and Ethan—"

Gaia nearly dropped her cone. "By all that is holy, do not even speak that cretin's name."

Vanessa looked puzzled. "Are you talking about Ethan? Gaia, I mean, he's our friend. A little bit of a womanizer maybe, but definitely not a cretin."

"Oh, the mercy of Hera!" Gaia gasped as she clutched her chest dramatically. "You must have been enthralled by his Narcissus-inspired, striking appearance. Let the wisdom of the gods guide you to the truth."

Kiana almost choked on her banana split. "Gaia, I don't seem to quite recall your manner of speaking being so…" she searched for the right words.

"Greek-mythology-ish," Vanessa filled in.

Clearing her throat, she proudly responded, "Well, since Monet made mention of my Grecian name, I figured that I would do a little research on ancient Greece. The information cube with moving pictures has been extremely helpful."

Kiana, Vanessa, and Lily burst out laughing again, much to her surprise. But when the laughing seemed to go on forever, Gaia slapped her hand on the table. "There is nothing humorous about the information cube."

Feeling a bit rude for laughing, Kiana attempted to compose herself. "The television, as it's called, isn't exactly the best source of educational material. There are a few channels that may help your research."

Vanessa added, "I think you've been watching way too many Hercules movies. Seriously, no one talks that way in this day and age."

"Hmph. I find it befitting of my origin," Gaia replied with a bit of indignant defiance in her tone.

"But didn't you just choose the name out of a book?" Lily innocently asked.

"A moot point, child."

"And I don't believe pink hair really falls in line with Grecian hairstyles either," Kiana mentioned.

"It seemed that they lived at a time when there were only shades of blacks, whites, and grays, so how exactly would you know what color hair they had?" Gaia pointedly asked.

Kiana shook her head in disbelief, not sure whether she should laugh again or actually feel sorry for the poor, misguided girl.

Getting back to Gaia's original comment, Lily curiously asked, "Are you still upset over the misunderstanding between you and Ethan?"

"Misunderstanding?! Lo! That shape-shifting vagabond tried to molest me!"

"Did you really just say _lo_? And _vagabond_? Like actually in a normal conversation?" Vanessa flatly asked. Shaking her head and without waiting for an answer, she continued, "Really, Gaia. I think that this has gone a little far. I mean, Ethan's not that bad of a guy. And like Lily said, it was just a simple misunderstanding."

"I've avoided him at all costs. I've never been bested in battle so easily. There must be something strange about him."

"Look, you trust us, right?" Vanessa asked Gaia.

The girl shrugged in response. "I suppose. But your allegiance to the shape-shifter makes me second guess that."

"He's not a shape-shifter. He's a good guy, just like Everett," Vanessa tried to explain.

"Well, my heart did palpitate when I first saw him and even more so when he grabbed me. But I thought only Everett could make my heart do such a thing. That is why I presumed he was a molester and had some ability to enthrall beautiful women such as I."

Vanessa's mouth fell open in surprise. "It seems that you have a crush on both Everett _and_ Ethan?!"

Gaia's face suddenly reddened. "I—I have no such thing. Everett saved me. And Ethan is…odd."

"Girl, you have got to learn a thing or two about boys and girls. Lily, I think you need to put on some ear muffs," Vanessa said with a suggestive smile.

"I can listen too! I'm old enough to know. I'm fourteen!" Lily defended.

Vanessa shook her head, still smiling. "Okay. Well, don't say I didn't warn you. Let me sum up the birds and the bees for you girls."

"I know not what flying creatures and insects have to do with the situation, but I shall entertain your tale," Gaia leaned inward as Vanessa's voice lowered.

Alyssa looked over curiously as the girls suddenly huddled together, their once enjoyably energetic conversation reduced to a hushed, clandestine whisper. Curiosity ate away at Alyssa, but when she finally mustered the nerve to make her way over, the girls suddenly reeled backwards, the hushed conversation definitely over.

As Vanessa sat back, her murmured explanation over, Gaia paled and found herself at a near loss for words. "I—I—I've never heard of such a—a _practice_ before," she tried to blink away the images of Vanessa's description, but they stayed prominently in her mind. "That is much too—too—I don't even have the words to describe it."

Gaia wasn't the only one surprised as Lily's face beamed red and her eyes were wide with stunned surprise. "Maybe I shouldn't have listened," she mentioned, more as an afterthought to herself. Next time Vanessa told her to put on ear muffs, Lily resolved to follow her suggestion without question.

"I'm only telling you guys what I saw on this movie," Vanessa explained, noting the two girls' appalled expressions. It was almost comical, but she held back her laughter, feeling the need to explain herself a little more. "I've _never_ done such a thing. I _won't_ do anything like that until way, _way_ down the road. And the same should hold true for _everyone_ at this table. But that's why your heart is fluttering around Ethan and Everett. A crush is just the beginning," Vanessa let a sly smile cross her lips, as Gaia reacted just the way she thought she would, blushing and shaking her head adamantly in denial.

Kiana took the final bite of her banana split, amused at the whole conversation. "Vanessa, I seriously can't believe that you of all people just told us about the birds and the bees. I always believed you to be the good girl of the group."

Vanessa wagged a chastising finger at Kiana. "I _am_ the good girl of the group. Well, second only to Lily, of course. But the movie—"

Gaia interjected, "Let's not even discuss such a thing again. I have lost my sense of stability just recalling your vivid narrative. Hence, if not for grasping the table to recover my balance, surely I would have fainted."

"Oh no! Are you okay?" Lily's emerald eyes were wide with concern, and she poised herself to attempt to rescue Gaia if she happened to slump over, having forgotten about her own wooziness.

Vanessa burst out laughing. "You are something else, Gaia. Lily, she's just being a bit overdramatic. She's fine."

"Ar—are you sure?"

"The child has plenty reason to be alarmed," Gaia said as she placed her hand on her forehead. "But thanks to your concern, Lily, methinks I've recuperated."

"Methinks!" Vanessa laughed again, almost tumbling out of her seat, eliciting a chuckle from Kiana and Lily. "I can tell that there's not going to be a dull moment with you guys. At first, I was a little nervous about coming here, but now, I'm glad that we're here. Will you at least give Ethan and us a chance?"

"Vanessa, Kiana, Lily. I feel a thread of fate connecting us, and in you I feel a kindred spirit. Though for some reason, Vanessa is always laughing at me, I want to be friends with all of you. And only because I have more trust in you will I attempt to give the narcissist a chance for redemption."

"I'm glad, because we want to be friends with you too!" Lily smiled.

"Our friend actually has a name. _Ethan_," Kiana corrected, emphasizing his name almost thunderously.

"Tis of no consequence to me. When he proves worthy of a proper addressing, I shall do so."

"Hey, it's a start," Vanessa said. Remembering what started the entire conversation in the first place, Vanessa turned to Lily. "So weren't you saying that you were concerned about Mike, Vince, and Ethan?"

Lily nodded. "They've been arguing more and more lately. And I think Mike's patience is running out."

"You're right," Kiana replied with a concerned expression, her festive demeanor gone. "I was talking with the three of them when Mike and Vincent started arguing. I really hadn't seen Mike that angry before—everything in the room was shaking."

"Maybe they have been enthralled as well, and they're arguing over his affections. I mean, I witnessed something similar on the information cube," Gaia sincerely offered as an explanation.

"Of course not, Gaia," Vanessa said, exasperated. "Make sure you don't watch any more MTV, okay? Anyways," she explained further, "Mike and Vincent…they've always been at odds. And Dr. Cain's sudden disappearance isn't helping. Dr. Cain was basically the only family Vincent had. I'm not sure about his home life, but I gathered that he and his parents didn't quite get along…they always seemed too busy to be bothered with him. So, Vincent was with Dr. Cain more than his own family."

"That makes it much more personal for Vincent then," Lily deduced.

Vanessa nodded in agreement. "And Mike's probably beating himself up over the situation. We know how hard he can be on himself. Vincent's attacks are only making it more difficult for him."

Kiana added, "Yeah. He kind of blames himself for Dr. Cain's disappearance. And Vincent blames him too. This goes way past their personality differences."

Lily frowned. "Do you think we'll still be able to work as a team to find Dr. Cain?"

"Mike will make it work. As a leader, he has to," Vanessa said. "And we'll all come together to find him."

Kiana agreed. "Ethan told him the same thing. But I wonder how the team dynamics are going to change with us now attending the school. Gaia, who's designated as your team leader? It seemed that Everett took the helm in the Danger Room."

"I don't believe that a team leader has been appointed, though Everett _does_ seem to be the best suited," Gaia answered.

Kiana raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Are you staying that with an objective eye?"

"Yes," Gaia answered much too quickly as her face grew hot. Seeing a wide grin spread across Kiana's face, she calmed herself and added, "Paige also seems to desire the responsibility."

"I guess we'll just see how it all plays out," Vanessa said. "But we all meshed well, considering it was our first time in the Danger Room. Tom and Forge were really impressed. So I don't think we have anything to worry about. Everything's going to be just fine."

Kiana glanced at her watch. "We've still got some time to kill. Why don't we head to the park?"

Vanessa said, "That's a good idea. It's a great day for it too."

As they headed out, Lily stopped suddenly. "I'm going to say bye to Alyssa. I'll catch up in a minute." As the three girls continued on, she rushed back into the shop and up to the counter, smiling as Alyssa came out the back. But Alyssa seemed worried, her friendly smile from earlier gone.

"I wanted to come back and say bye…is everything okay?"

Glancing around for her mother, Alyssa said in a mysteriously hushed voice, "I—I'm worried about you. Please, be careful."

Caught off guard, Lily wasn't quite sure she head Alyssa right. "Why? I'm not in—"

"You don't understand," Alyssa urgently cut in. "My aunt—she—"

"Alyssa, can you help me back here with organizing this new shipment?" Olivia called from the back.

"I'll be there in a sec," Alyssa replied. "I was just saying bye to Lily."

"Come back and see us again sometime!" Olivia called, barely visible from the back. She waved then disappeared.

"Thanks!" Lily responded then turned her attention back to Alyssa, who leaned in closer.

"You look exactly like my cousin, and my aunt thinks that—she's just a dangerous woman. And I can't say for sure, but something's horribly wrong. My mother's concerned too, but she doesn't know who to go to. I—" Alyssa trailed off and shook her head. "I've probably said too much. But please, be careful. I don't know what she's capable of."

Lily nodded, unsure of what else to say. "You met Mr. Corsi, right? Maybe he can talk to your mother and do something to help."

Alyssa nodded.

Lily touched her hand and smiled then left the store. Once outside, she took a deep breath, unsure of what to make of the conversation. It seemed so random, yet Alyssa was seriously worried about her. Was she trying to forewarn her of some impending danger? And who exactly was her aunt?

Pulling out her phone, she scrolled through the numbers that were already programmed in and quickly found the one she was looking for. Switching the phone to speaker and video mode, she held it in the palm of her hand, waiting for the other end to pick up. At the last second before she gave up, Tom answered, his face appearing in the small screen.

"What's up, Lily?" he greeted. "I see you're trying out the video feature of the phone."

Not feeling like she had time to comment on the coolness of the feature, she stayed on track. "I'm sorry for interrupting, but I just talked to Alyssa…"

"The Icy Delight owner's daughter?"

"Yes. She said something strange…that I could be in danger. And she mentioned her aunt. I know that Ms. Frost and Mr. Cassidy went to Boston, so I wanted to see if you could talk to Ms. Stine."

Tom immediately recalled Olivia mentioning something about her sister and the deaths of her daughter and husband. Back then, Tom felt as thought there was something more Olivia wanted to say, but she held back. Surely, it wasn't mere coincidence that this situation resurfaced again.

Tom frowned, considering Lily could be in danger. "I've known Olivia for some time, so I'll talk to her and see what's going on. Are you going to be okay?"

Lily nodded. "Yes. I was a little scared by Alyssa's warning, but I'm with Kiana, Gaia, and Vanessa, so I'm okay."

Still not convinced but willing to concede, Tom said, "If anything looks out of place, you girls get back to the school on the double. Got it?"

"I understand. We'll be back in a little bit anyways."

"Don't hesitate to call me if anything else happens, alright?"

"Thanks, Mr. Corsi." Lily ended the call, already feeling a little more relieved. She thought about telling the others, but there was no sense in worrying them right now. Besides, it could all just be a misunderstanding. Lily decided to keep the situation to herself as she jogged to catch up with the other girls.

"We thought we were going to have to go back for you, Lily," Vanessa said.

Lily blushed. "Sorry for taking so long. I—"

_Quack!_

Lily's ears perked up as the sound floated to her ears. Her eyes darted around the park until she found the pond and several ducks wading near the edge. "Oh!" she smiled as she parted from the group and headed toward the pond.

"Where are you going?" Kiana asked.

"I just want to see the ducks real quick!" Lily bounded down a side path that led directly to the edge of Carter Lake. A large body of water, located in the central-most part of the park, it was a favorite spot for tourists and residents alike to swim and boat. The shoreline was always littered with ducks, which the children loved to feed and pet. This was her first time seeing the vast lake, and she was delighted.

Gaia took a step to follow but stopped abruptly.

"Is something wrong?" Kiana asked, noticing the girl's trepidation.

"Those odd creatures," Gaia said, pointing toward the ducks. "I do not wish to traipse any closer lest I be attacked by the monsters."

"They're not monsters. They're cute duckies!" Lily called back over her shoulder. Her long, shimmering curls bounced behind her as she jogged down the rest of the way to the edge of the lake. An older woman was already there, feeding some of the ducks and handed her a piece of bread.

Gaia still hesitated. "No other manner of Earth animal creates an echoless sound. Surely, there must be something unnatural about them."

Vanessa answered patiently, "It's just one of the unexplained mysteries of the world, Gaia. Everything can't be explained in scientific or even natural terms. Take mutant powers—there's no rhyme or reason why they exist or how an otherwise normal human can manipulate all kinds of forces. But it occurs. We just accept it and move on."

"I suppose," she replied, still watching carefully as Lily kneeled next to the ducks. One waddled up to Lily and plucked a piece of bread from her hand. She smiled and held out another piece, while Gaia watched with piqued interest. The ducks, as they called them, didn't attack at all. The more she looked at them, the more she realized that the animals were passive and, in some strange way, cute. "Maybe these duck creatures aren't dangerous monstrosities," she finally concluded.

"See, there you go!" Vanessa smiled. "Why don't you try to feed the ducks with Lily? I'm sure the lady down there has some extra bread."

"I will try my hand at this feeding task. But lo, the first duck that bites me, we shall dine well tonight." Gaia took the same path to the edge of the lake, smiling as the older woman handed her a piece of bread. But the duck that waddled toward her quacked, and Gaia screamed.

Kiana shook her head, turning back to her friend.

Feeling Kiana's eyes on her, Vanessa watched Gaia curiously. "You know, she's never experienced normal things that we take for granted. She was chained to some machine for thousands of years—I can't imagine going through that. I want to help her live normally and have fun, even with our current situation."

Kiana smiled warmly. "You have a kind heart. I had forgotten that."

"Yeah. Sometimes, I do too."

"Is everything okay?"

Vanessa sighed heavily. "I'm getting more and more worried about this whole situation. One day, we're attending a summer internship program at Byrne Company, and then Rico and I get whisked here on a whim to a school for mutants. Meanwhile, Dr. Cain gets kidnapped, and we get targeted by some mysterious organization, which may turn out to be the Arminthorpe Corporation. It's just all happening too fast."

"Aren't you the one that reassured Lily that we'd get it all figured out?"

"I guess," Vanessa admitted. "But deep down, I'm not so sure this is as simple as it seems."

"We'll get some time to hunt down more clues. Our run-in with Mina Laroché gives us a good place to start. She wouldn't have been at Dr. Cain's house without having a reason. Someone pointed her in that direction."

"But Dr. Cain didn't have any enemies."

"From the looks of things, he only had one—the Arminthorpe Corporation."

That idea stunned Vanessa. "The Corporation? But why?"

"I suspect that it had to do with us. Maybe he found out something he wasn't supposed to. Or maybe our reason for being there wasn't as innocent as we thought."

"My father…maybe I should ask him what he can find out since he works there."

"Do you think that's wise? Anyone who seems to get involved with us gets targeted, like the other students at Xavier's."

"Right now, we don't know enough to get inside the walls of the Arminthorpe Corporation. And…" Vanessa trailed off. "That's weird. I can't even remember where it is. We went there enough…I should know."

"Now that you mention it, I can't either. It's like there's a jumble where there should be a clear memory."

"That makes no sense. How could we both not remember where it is?"

"Unless someone purposefully erased it from our memories."

Vanessa felt the warm air suddenly grow cold, and she rubbed her bare arms in response. "What are they trying to hide?"

"Something big. Something dangerous. And if we don't find out what's going on soon, I'm afraid that the dangerous ducks are going to be the least of our worries."

II.

For the past week, Graylon Walsh had overturned every stone he knew possible, but nothing had turned up on Dr. Niles Cain. A police report had already been filed, but he was sure that they wouldn't find anything either. Graylon realized that the only way to get anymore answers without going to the doorstep of the Arminthorpe Corporation was to pressure Dr. Cain's patients or teammates or students or whatever they were to him. So far, Graylon had only met one, Ethan Callaghan, but his main target was Michael Lawson.

Now, strolling down the winding path that gave a scenic tour of Grenada Park, Graylon was only remotely aware of people around him. Until he spotted a pink-haired girl looking quite anxious amongst a flock of waddling ducks. A younger blonde next to her gave an animated encouragement for her to participate in the feeding.

_Gaia, one of the Xavier kids. That must mean…_

He scanned and found two more girls, directly across from the other two, standing at the lower edge of the hill. They waved back at the blond girl, and then continued to watch over their friends curiously.

Taking a chance that he couldn't afford to miss, he continued up the path toward the two girls. When he got closer, Graylon greeted, "Kiana Asahara and Vanessa Wallace, I presume."

Stunned at hearing their names from a stranger, they both turned toward him simultaneously, mistrustful expressions on their face. Despite their expressions, Graylon had to admit that both of them were quite attractive in their own way. Kiana's firm jawline and Asian features created a sharp, yet refined look, while Vanessa's softer facial structure, large hazel eyes, and full lips made her appear more delicate.

Yet, it was Vanessa that stepped forward and sharply addressed him. "Since when did my name get tattooed on my forehead? Who are you?"

He shrugged, taking slow steps around the girls. "I know everyone in this town. Since I don't know you, it was obvious. And I'm Graylon Walsh."

"Graylon Walsh?" Kiana repeated. Then it hit her. "You're the reporter that always gives Xavier's bad publicity."

He made a shameful cluck in response. "Reputations are a wonderful thing and usually highlight some bit of truth. But in this case, it doesn't. The kids from Xavier's always seem to be entangled in anything sketchy going down. It's my job to report what I see."

Vanessa wasn't buying it, and her expression relayed that. "Yeah, through a skewed, biased lens. You're out to smear the school's name for your own glory. You don't care about the truth."

Continuing to walk slowly around the girls, Graylon shrugged and brushed his blond hair out of his eyes. "My motivation isn't so trite. Besides, right now I've got bigger fish to fry, which actually concerns you. I know about Dr. Cain's disappearance," Graylon paused, watching the girls' reactions. Both of them cast a look at each other but played it cool, which he halfway expected. He couldn't immediately discern if they were hiding something or not, so he continued, "But I haven't been able to get any more information. I figured that you guys may have found something."

_He's fishing,_ Vanessa deduced. And a sideways, knowing glance from Kiana confirmed that she thought the same thing. To Graylon, Vanessa shot, "You're a reporter. Why should we share anything with you? For all we know, you could be headed to your news station right now to put what we tell you all out in the street."

Graylon cut his dark blue eyes as if he was truly offended. "Making generalizations about my intentions? You girls have a lot to learn about judging people."

"Or maybe you should recognize that we have no reason to trust you," Kiana pointedly responded.

"Heck, we don't even _know_ you," Vanessa added, an inflection of attitude punctuating every word. She crossed her arms and glared at Graylon, unimpressed by his responses so far. And at this point, it would take a lot more than snappy comebacks to impress her.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "I'll give you that. But you're going to change your minds about trusting me soon enough."

Arrogance was one thing that Kiana did not care for. And this reporter reeked of it. Intending to shift the conversation to their favor, Kiana inquired, "Why did you call Dr. Cain last week? And why are you trying to find Michael Lawson? And why shouldn't we suspect that you had something to do with Dr. Cain's kidnapping?"

Graylon appeared stunned for a moment, taken aback at the unexpected questions, but quickly regained his composure. "Impressive. You're a few steps ahead of where I would have put you. You've been to his house, and you're probably the reason it's all locked and taped up."

Vanessa impatiently demanded, "Just answer the questions."

"First, it's my job to ask the questions, considering you don't know the first thing about what you're dealing with. And if I'm at the top of your suspect list, then I take back the compliment I gave you." Graylon turned to leave. "You're going to see me again. Both of you. Because we're working on the same side. But our motivations are different. Cain's kidnapping was just the beginning."

Again, his arrogance was shining through and Kiana found herself disliking Graylon more as each moment passed. Still, he seemed to have a piece of the overall puzzle, so she couldn't totally discount him yet. Instead, she offered, "If you want our help, you're going to have to prove you're trustworthy and honest."

"Hmm…" Graylon paused and turned around, a glint in his eye showing renewed interest. "And just how would I do that?"

Kiana answered, "Mina Laroché. A name—that's all I'm going to give you. When you figure the rest out, come find us. You already know the address."

Giving a half-smirk, Graylon looked as though he was going to respond but changed his mind. "Fine. I'll play your game. Guess I'll be seeing you soon. Give Ethan my regards." With that, he turned and continued down the path, disappearing around a grove of trees.

Sighing, Vanessa commented, "Well, he certainly has a flair for being dramatic. I'm surprised you gave him that name. Do you think he'll turn up anything?"

Kiana shook her head, wondering if she had done the right thing as well. If anything, they should be keeping someone like Graylon as far away from this situation as possible. Not only was he a reporter, but his involvement in the entire scheme was questionable at best. She wondered if she had recruited a resourceful assistant or a victim of circumstance.

Kiana answered, "If he's as good as he thinks he is, he will find the information we seek. Mina was not at Dr. Cain's of her own accord, so if we can find out a clue as to who her employer is, we'll have a good starting point."

"I don't know if I agree with getting mixed up with him," Vanessa said with a little bit of a motherly tone in her voice, which Kiana caught. She continued, "That guy…there's something suspect about him. Plus, I'm not really sure that he's the kind of reporter that can figure things out and handle himself if he runs into trouble. We're going to end up having to save his butt."

Kiana chuckled. "I understand your concern. I wouldn't expect anything less from you. I thought the same thing as you, and the truth is that at this point, I don't trust him either. However, we're not really in a position to pick and choose who we trust. If we're going to find Dr. Cain, we're going to have to take some chances."

"I see your point," Vanessa agreed. "It's risky, and I wish the guy that we had to take a chance on wasn't the mortal enemy of Xavier's."

Before Kiana could comment farther, Lily and Gaia made their way back towards them, both with content smiles on their faces. A cool breeze swayed light branches and ruffled the girl's hair and clothes.

"Who was that boy who stopped by?" Lily asked when she neared Kiana and Vanessa.

"The infamous Graylon Walsh," Vanessa answered.

"Ugh. As I recall, he is scum, a monstrous being that should be exterminated along with the paparazzi and lawyers," added Gaia.

Lily's eyes lit up. "Oh! Do you have a crush on him too?"

A repulsed expression took over Gaia's features. "I would rather the slimy, Hellish serpents of Hades slither across my bosom—"

"Eww!" Lily sharply cried.

"You could've simply said no," Vanessa interjected, shuddering at the thought of something wet and slimy creeping across her chest. "I really think you should cut back on the Grecian analogies and explanations. They tend to be a little over-the-top."

"I would have to agree with Vanessa on this point," Kiana added.

Vanessa hated admitting that they were trusting someone that was more like a deadly wild card than a trusted ally. But ultimately, it was Kiana that she trusted. And if Kiana thought that it was a good move to involve Graylon, then Vanessa decided that she would wait to see how it played out. She couldn't speak for the rest of the students once they found out, and wondered how they would react.

_Guess we'll just cross that bridge when we get to it,_ Vanessa said to herself. To answer Gaia and Lily, she said, "We decided to see what he'll turn up."

"You lent your trust to that…that…cretin?!" Gaia questioned.

Kiana nodded. "We had no choice. If he is working to find Dr. Cain as well, he may be a needed asset. But we must remain cautious of him at all times."

Gaia seemed to accept Kiana's explanation. "A reasonable assertion indeed."

Lily, though involved in the conversation at first, was distracted by something beyond them. "Isn't that Vincent?" Lily suddenly interjected, pointing down about fifty feet from where they were standing. Right at the edge of the lake, a red-haired, scowling teen sat pitching pebbles into the water.

There was no mistaking his fire-red hair, which matched his fiery temper. Rubbing his hands on his jeans, Vincent Sellenger picked up another pebble, tossing it in the air and catching it before throwing it. It hit the water with a barely audible splash.

"Do you want to talk to him, or should I?" Vanessa asked Kiana. Because of the time they had spent together, it was pretty easy to tell when one of them was in a mood. And usually, when Vincent was frustrated or upset, he went off by himself and usually refused to speak to anybody. But Vanessa or Kiana would eventually venture to his side and succeed in talking him out of seclusion.

"Because your heart is so kind today, I will leave it to you," Kiana politely declined, bowing afterward.

"Thanks," Vanessa icily said. It wasn't that she lacked concern for Vincent, but she really didn't feel capable of dealing with Vincent exploding with another tirade about Michael. Or lamenting about Dr. Cain. She had done enough of that on her own, and it did nothing to make her feel better. Despite her hesitation, in the end, her kind heart did win out, and taking a readying breath, Vanessa made her way to Vincent.

Still staring out into the calm water, Vincent didn't notice Vanessa until she lightly coughed. Slightly surprised, he hid it well, instead returning his gaze to the water. Vincent felt like being alone, but when Vanessa sat down next to him, he couldn't muster the strength to send her away. Instead, he picked up another pebble and tossed it into the water, creating a chaos of ripples for a few moments before the water settled back down.

"Well, you're a regular ray of sunshine today, Vinnie," she broke the ice. Vanessa knew that he absolutely hated any shortening of his name, but she was the only one that could get away with calling him Vinnie. "What are you doing out here by yourself? Why didn't you go to Boston with Ethan and Angelo?"

Vincent's hand grazed the immediate area for another pebble. "They didn't ask me," he flatly responded as his fingers grazed one. He picked it up and again, pitched it into the lake.

"What about Monet? I mean, she was inviting everyone to Manhattan."

"Not me."

Vanessa suddenly felt a pang of guilt and began to search for alternate solutions to combat the storm brewing. "Weren't you going to help Paige with the computer?"

He snorted in response. "Remember, our fearless co-leader asked Rico to help, not me."

"If I would've known that," Vanessa countered as sincerely as she could, "I would have invited you along with us." And she meant it. Though Vincent could be difficult to be around, she really didn't mind his company. And he seemed to get agitated less when he was around her or Kiana.

"I don't want to be the only guy hanging out with a bunch of girls."

Vanessa couldn't contain a burst of laughter. "Don't play that macho card and complain about being lonely at the same time," Vanessa then held her breath, realizing that she probably making light of something he was taking seriously.

"I didn't complain," he calmly said. "Really, I could't care less. It's not like I'm fitting in here anyways. Maybe I'd be better off looking for Cain on my own."

Vanessa's held breath came out as a sudden cough. She replayed in her mind what Vincent had just said, and it sounded even more ludicrous the second time. "What?! Are you going to leave the school?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, eyes still fixed on the lake. "Thinkin' about it."

A silence fell between them, and for a moment, Vanessa didn't know what to say. They had only been at the school for a week, and they hadn't made any progress on their original goal—to find Dr. Cain. And they were at the school for guaranteed protection from whoever was after them and had access to some pretty high-tech gear that would make their investigation that much simpler. Yet, Vincent seemed ready to simply discard it like a piece of trash.

She found herself picking up her own pebble and casting it into the lake, mesmerized by the symmetrical ripples that spread from its entry point. Finally, Vanessa said, "I can't convince you to stay if you don't want to."

"I don't want convincing," he quickly retorted.

"Then you would've left already." Shaking her head, Vanessa clarified, "What I'm trying to say is that you know that we can't find Dr. Cain without you. And you can't find Dr. Cain without the rest of us. None of us can do this alone. And we're lucky because we don't have to."

He sighed deeply, closing his eyes for a moment. "Maybe I am the most useless person on the team."

Unable to hide her surprise at such a statement, she asked, "Who said that?"

"Who do you think?"

Vanessa thought for a moment then remembered Kiana's story from the ice cream shop. "Michael? I mean, I can't imagine him saying that and actually meaning it. I know you two don't get along, but…"

"He's always acting better than everyone. Always so damn perfect and in control. It makes me sick."

Only letting a pause linger for a moment, Vanessa retaliated. "Really, you've got to let that go. This isn't the time for all that. I know you pretty well, and I know that you can kick butt when you've got your head in the game. Right now, you don't. And you're using Mike as an excuse. Maybe he's always been your excuse. But here, we all have to step it up a notch. Especially because if we don't, who knows what'll happen to Dr. Cain? If something happened to him because I didn't give it my all, I would never forgive myself."

"You think I'm weak too."

"No," she quickly responded. "I think you can be stronger. I think we all can be stronger. And we've got that chance here at Xavier's. And we can use that strength to figure out just what the heck is going on." Vanessa shook her head, realizing that she was climbing up on her soapbox. Spiraling down, she said, "Like I said, I can't convince you to stay. And frankly, I won't. If you want to stay here, you're going to have to find your reason. And once you do, that's what you focus on."

Vanessa climbed to her feet and brushed off her jeans. "It really is a nice day today. You should enjoy it."

"Yeah," he absently said.

Unable to say anything else that could possibly help, Vanessa turned away and headed back towards Kiana, Gaia, and Lily, who were already heading back toward the entrance of the park.

"How is he?" Kiana asked.

"He'll be fine," she answered, glancing back. Vincent had left his spot and was no where to be seen. "Yeah, he'll be fine. We all will. And so will Dr. Cain."

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional


	13. A Single Day: Everett

I.

By the time the taxi pulled up in front of the Thomas household, dusk had stolen the clear blue sky and sun, replacing it with a spectrum of darker hues, fading gently into the night sky. Streetlights bathed the sidewalks in a dim orange light, and small fireflies were already hovering inches above the well-kept lawns. The summer humidity dissipated, leaving behind a cool, late summer breeze, carrying with it the smells of freshly cut grass and remnants of daytime barbeques.

"We're here kid," the gruff taxi driver eyed Everett in the rearview mirror as he put the car in park. Taking his cigarette and smashing it into the console ashtray, he turned halfway around with a glare. "Ya getting' out or what, kid?"

"Yeah," he absently replied, eying his parents' two-story townhome. It was exactly as he remembered it—aged red brick, dark shutters, sloping roof with black shingles, and large windows overlooking the street. There was a small patch of grass in the front that his mother took care of, making it her own personal garden on a street where plant-life was non-existent. The house was the same, but he felt that there was something different.

The last time he was at his home, his parents stared at him in horror as Everett hovered over his little sister, the hunger of Emplate's possession driving him to do something he never in his life thought he had the capacity to do—injure his family. And he had, though not physically. He regained some semblance of rationale and threw himself from the window. But emotionally, he knew that his entire family was hurt. And scared. Suddenly, he wasn't so sure this was a good idea.

"Hey, kid, ya in there?"

He felt the taxi driver's eyes boring into him, so he grabbed the handle and pushed open the door, thankful for the fresh air. Everett grabbed his overnight bag and took a deep breath, rejoicing that he could actually breathe deeply again, since the odor of smoke and sweat within the taxi was stifling. He fished out a twenty and ten dollar bill, handed them over, and gave a word of thanks, despite the less-than-friendly attitude. The driver simply grunted in reply and drove off, leaving him to whatever he had come here to do.

_So why did I come here?_

Everett had asked himself that several times since leaving the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters that morning, but he couldn't immediately discern an answer. He loved his parents and his siblings, but that isn't why he came. There was something he needed…something he thought was lost. But when he tried to grab a hold of it, the notion simply slipped through his fingers and disappeared in a fog of doubt and trepidation.

He repositioned the bag on his shoulder and headed up the narrow stone walk, feeling the things he prided himself on—his composure, self-control, and level-headedness—slipping away with each step.

_Don't do this to yourself. You're being ridiculous,_ he told himself as he stopped at the door. His eyes flicked over to the large fern next to the swinging bench, where his mother always kept a spare key. Always. He thought about just grabbing it and walking in, but the fear that it wouldn't be there kept him frozen in place.

Closing his eyes tiredly, Everett lifted his hand and pressed the doorbell. Even though he wasn't inside yet, he could already smell the aromas of dinner, with his mother's perfume and father's pipe lightly intertwined.

Hurried footsteps rushed toward the door. "I've got it," Ida Thomas called from inside as the door opened slowly. As soon as her eyes rested on Everett, they widened in excitement, and the hot sting of tears tingled at the corners. For a moment, she was too stunned to move, then she snapped her out of her surprise, extended her arms, and wrapped him in a tight, motherly embrace. "Everett, I can't believe you're home," she said through a choked voice. "We were so worried."

"I know. I was too," he responded, as he returned the hug. He immediately regretted not at least letting his parents know that he was okay. Hearing from Sean was vastly different than hearing it from their own son, and it took until now for him to realize that.

Ida pulled back and inspected him, looking him over critically then returning to his eyes that reminded her of her husband's. "I'm so glad you're home. I can't tell you how worried we were after what happened…" she trailed off, sensing his uncomfortable shift. Smiling, she ushered him inside. "Get in here. I was just finishing dinner."

As soon as Everett crossed the threshold, the aromas fully enveloped him, and there was no question that he was home. As he closed the door behind him, his stomach growled loudly. He realized he hadn't even eaten that morning and had been much too anxious to think about lunch.

Ida winked and placed her finger over the lips to tell him to be quiet. Then, whispering, she said, "Why don't you put your bags in your room and surprise your father, Nate, and Kim? Dinner will be ready in a few more minutes."

Everett's mouth turned up in a smile as he nodded in agreement and took quieted steps up the stairs.

"Who was at the door?" Stan called.

"Hurry. I won't ruin the surprise," she shooed him up the stairs, then cut down the hallway and into the living room, giving an explanation that Everett couldn't quite hear.

Still walking carefully, he absorbed the familiar surroundings: the plush carpet, family photos, and artsy décor. Taking the last door on the left, he slipped into is room and closed it behind him. Within his own domain, he relaxed, letting out a relieved breath before setting his bag down. Nothing was out of place—his parents had kept his room intact, much to his pleasure. All his trophies were still on the bookshelf, while certificates reflecting his many scholarly accomplishments hung from the walls. The Cardinals comforter still lined his bed, and he smiled to himself, realizing that he hadn't even kept up with the team since leaving home.

Before he knew it, Everett found himself staring at the ceiling as he lay peacefully on the bed. He smiled as the mattress immediately responded to his body, giving way in all the right places. His bed at Xavier's was comfortable, but this was heavenly, and it took quite a bit of effort not to fully fall asleep. Making himself get up, he figured enough time had passed for dinner to be ready.

He took one last look at his room before leaving his room quietly, creeping carefully back down the stairs. He skipped the one step that creaked and stepped gingerly over the rug that always seemed to trip him up.

Within a few feet of the living room doorway, Everett hesitated for a moment, listening to the sound of the news and the joyous laughter of his siblings. He visualized the scene—his father was in that old recliner that he refused to get rid of, listening to the news with his eyes closed, though he would swear he wasn't sleep. Nate and Kim were seated in the middle of the room, playing with various toys, oblivious to the world around them.

When he stepped around the corner into the living room, everything was exactly as he imagined it. And immediately Kim's head turned toward the door, despite being blind, as if she sensed Everett's presence. Nate turned a few seconds later, and his blue eyes lit up with glee.

"Everett!" Nate called.

"Ev-ett" Kim called, standing as she grasped Nate's hand.

Stan's eyes shot open, and as they focused, he thought he was dreaming. He squinted then leaned forward. "Son?"

Kneeling down, Everett spread his arms wide as Nate and Kim fell into them. He looked at his father, and said, "Hi, Dad. I'm home."

A wide grin spread across his father's face as he watched Everett with the younger kids. "Welcome home. It's about time."

"I know," Everett replied, feeling the sting of tears at the corners of his eyes. "I know."

II.

Dinner was just as he remembered it, full of light conversation and laughter. Not to mention the delicious food. It had been way too long since Everett had eaten a home-cooked meal, and he couldn't help but to go back for seconds. And his mother didn't let him refuse dessert. At the end of the meal, his stomach was pleasantly full and his face hurt from laughing.

As Ida led Nate and Kim from the dinner table, he saw his father's expression turn serious. "Everett, we're glad you're home. After what happened, we were scared. We trusted the school to take care of you, but then—"

Everett interjected, "But they have been taking care of me, Dad. It wasn't their fault. If anything, I underestimated my own vulnerability." He shifted uncomfortably, suddenly wishing that he wasn't having this conversation with his father. Not right now anyways. He saw his mother rejoin them out of the corner of his eye and knew that he wasn't escaping his parents' talk.

Ida smiled warmly, placing a hand on Everett's. "When we agreed for you to go to that school, we didn't exactly expect you to be in so much danger. We thought they would help you with your—" she paused searching for the right word, "—abilities."

"And they are," he solidly replied, feeling his own defenses rising. He didn't want his parents to paint Xavier's as some kind of dangerous battle ground, though more times than not, that's what it seemed like.

Continuing, Ida then said, "Everett, I know that you're enjoying yourself at the school." She gave a knowing glance toward Stan, signaling that they had talked about this way before he had gotten there. "But your father and I would like for you to come home. We don't want to worry about what monster is threatening you or what dangers are lurking around that school."

Despite being stunned by his mother's request, Everett wasn't surprised. In some way, he was expecting his parents to ask him to leave the school. But the more he thought about it, the harder it became to make a decision. Even now that he was faced with having to give his parents an answer, Everett didn't know what to say.

Instead, he tried to reason with them. "St. Louis is just as dangerous," he pointed out. "Instead of crazed mutants, we've got muggers, carjackers, and gangs. It's not any safer here than at the school." But as he searched his parents' expressions, he could see that they wouldn't yield so easily. They were serious. But so was he.

Shaking her head, she replied, "I know. I—I just don't know what would do if something happened to you." She took a deep breath to steady her voice, which had begun to crack.

"Something almost did," he admitted. "Thinking about it afterward, I was embarrassed—ashamed—about what happened. I couldn't believe that I'd been used by a monster, and then endangered all of you, especially Nate and Kim. Not to mention Giovanni at the school. I fought against my own teammates. And I actually…" he trailed off. "I almost gave up."

Just retelling the story briefly made him relive those few hours all over again. He could feel the burning urge to feed, smell the stench of mutant marrow permeating the air, see everyone in terms of their biological energy output, hear the tormented cries of the demons haunting Emplate, and taste the sour flavor of a body no longer his own. Closing his eyes, he pushed the painful memories from his mind.

Everett never gave up—it was one of the things that Stan impressed upon his son, and something that he took to heart as he grew older. To hear Everett admit that he almost gave up tore at Stan's heart. The situation must have been so dire, so dangerous that there was no other way.

"One of my teammates saved me, Monet St. Croix. She helped me when I couldn't help myself," as Everett reflected, a touch of emotion laced his voice. "There are people at Xavier's that I care about and that care about me. I can't simply leave. I can't just give up and run away."

Stan replied, "They may need you there, but we need you here too. Nate and Kim need their older brother to look up to. We need our eldest son."

He broke his father's gaze, letting his eyes rest on his empty plate. He did want to come back home, if for nothing else, to be around his family more. It was something that was important to him, but with all the work at the school, there was hardly any time to come up and visit. But maybe with the recent revamping of the curriculum, they would have normal academic breaks, and he would be able to see them more.

"If I left now after everything we've been through, I would feel like I was giving up. And I don't give up. I wanted to come back and tell you this face-to-face. I thought that I was embarrassed and ashamed about what happened, but that wasn't it at all. I was afraid that when I chose the school, that I would lose my family."

Stan shook his head gently. "No matter what, Everett, the bonds of this family cannot be broken. In your darkest hour, when you have nothing left and when the world is against you, know that we're here, behind you. Supporting and loving without question. Unconditionally. Nothing, and I mean nothing, will ever change that."

Everett felt the sting of tears at the corners of his eyes and for a moment, his breath caught. His parents hadn't said anything that he didn't already known deep down, but hearing them say it made it sore solid, more real. Much more than something he just knew. It was a hardened fact that he wouldn't soon forget.

"You're my family and the most important people in my life. I want to protect you—I've got the ability and chance to learn to protect you from any threat out there. As much as I hate to admit it, that's the one thing I can't learn here, which is why I have to go back."

"Your father and I know that you wouldn't leave the school. We won't ever force you to choose. We wanted you to realize that though you have bonds and responsibility at the school, so you have here too. Your brother and sister miss you. We miss you. But we understand."

"You've grown, son. I know that staying at Xavier's is a hard choice, but you're making a choice for what you believe in. And in that, you've shown me that you've learned all you can learn from your mother and me. We're proud of you, and we'll keep being proud of you."

Nothing had changed. Everything was exactly the same. And sometimes, that's how it should be.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional

: My first reviewer! I was beginning to think no one was reading this story, so I'm glad to see that someone is. Your observation is definitely noted. Sometimes, I'm sure that authors have the characters engrained so much in their head that they totally forget that the readers sometimes may not, especially when there are long periods between postings. I'll definitely weave in those occasional reminders of physical attributes. Glad to see you're enjoying the story, and I hope you continue to follow it.


	14. A Single Day: Paige and Rico

I.

_"A series of harassment complaints have surfaced against a group calling themselves the Friends of Humanity. Eyewitnesses say that the group, comprised of five masked, armed men have been terrorizing subway riders, forcefully spreading their ideals of mutant hate. Fortunately, no one has been hurt, but eyewitnesses have expressed concern about the potential violence if a mutant were in the vicinity. These attacks have been ongoing in New York City in particular, despite the large amount of superheroes present in that area. We are asking viewers to be vigilant and report any suspicious activity to the police immediately. Do not confront the terrorists—"_

Paige felt a knot form in her stomach imagining the self-proclaimed vigilantes instilling fear into innocent bystanders then attacking a defenseless mutant on the street. The thing that almost made her sick was the fact that she wasn't sure that anyone on the street would stop to help a mutant being accosted by the group. Her thoughts then went to her friends.

_ New York City? Monet, Jubilee, and Jono were headed that way today. Maybe I should call. _

She pulled out her phone, but then began to vacillate on the decision. She then shook her head, smiling in spite of herself. _Paige, girl, don't get all worried over nothing. They won't take the subway anyways, no need in stirring up trouble on our day off._ She slipped the phone back in her pocket as Rico walked in.

He greeted Paige with a broad smile, which seemed bright against his olive complexion. "Sounds like a busy morning already," he commented as he plopped in the chair next to her. "From the looks of things, terrorist activity is picking up, especially in regards to mutants."

"Yeah. I just wish sometimes I could watch the news and see something good. This is no way to start a day." Brushing strands of her straw colored hair from her brow, she commanded, "Cerebra, log in news report. Keyword—Friends of Humanity. Cross-reference terrorism."

Rico nodded in agreement. "You've got a point. So why don't you just watch some cartoons instead? They'll give you a good laugh. Or maybe listen to Gaia talk for five minutes…that's always a crowd-pleaser."

A laugh caught Paige off-guard, and she covered her mouth. "So you've noticed it too?"

"Who hasn't noticed her kinda weird way of talking? I figure Vanessa will say something to her sooner or later." Turning his attention to Cerebra, he marveled not only at the complex console in front of him but also the fact that this computer was probably one of the most advanced pieces of technology that he would ever get to lay his hands on. He watched Paige out of the corner of his eye as she used various voice commands and keyboard strokes to maneuver around the system. "This thing looks awesome. I heard Forge's overview, but this is the first time I've seen it."

"My brother told me that Cerebro's way bigger than this."

"Angelo said you've been down here working on it. I kinda want to learn how to use it too."

Paige grinned. "Well, come on. I can show you what I've been doing so far, and maybe we can work on this together. It's good to have someone else interested in the computer systems too. That way, I'm not the only geek of the group," she punctuated her last statement with a smile.

"Make no mistake, woman, you're still the computer geek of the group. I'm way too cool for that label."

"Well, Mr. Cool, let's see if your coolness has prepared you for some intense training." Paige then began to explain the basic overview of Cerebra then for the next few hours, they delved into the software and hardware details. The time seemed to race by as Rico followed her lead on the manipulation of data, access controls, and small maintenance. Each time she explained something new, Rico found himself impressed not only with Cerebra, but with Paige as well.

When three o'clock passed, he stood and stretched. "So when am I supposed to stop seeing everything in ones and zeros?"

Paige laughed. "It's going to take at least a week. For a cool guy, I'm surprised you caught onto everything so quickly. And that you stayed here to mess with Cerebra instead of going out to Boston."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "I mean, I thought about going, but since you were here, it was a good time to learn the system. But honestly, when I figured out that there's a chance I could be an X-Man, I decided that I want to learn all I can to be useful to the team. Having the ability to control the wind is cool, but it's nowhere near as aggressive as some of the other folks' powers."

"You know, my powers aren't that aggressive either, but don't sell yourself short. I've learned to use them to my advantage. Maybe you could too. And the X-Men thing, well, I'll admit that one day, I want to lead the X-Men." Catching herself and immediately turning a shade of crimson, Paige stammered, "Umm…oh, that sounds a little overly-ambitious, doesn't it?"

Giving Paige a genuine, reassuring smile, Rico responded, "No, no. Not at all. It's kind of admirable. I mean, you know what you want to do, and why you're here. Some of us are still trying to figure it out."

It was only a week ago that Rico and his six other friends found themselves swiftly recruited to the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, an elite school established for college-bound students. But within its walls was a well-kept secret—the facility doubled as an institution for young mutants to explore and understand their abilities.

Brought there after the disappearance of their previous mentor, Dr. Niles Cain, Rico and the rest found themselves as pawns in a much larger game, one that could have dire ramifications. But for now, they were simply laying low, waiting for something—anything—that would accurately pinpoint who was behind their mentor's disappearance.

Paige noticed the concerned look in his eyes and felt like she could understand. It wasn't that long ago that they too were victims of circumstance, brought together under the umbrella of Xavier's. "Listen," she offered, "I don't know all the details of y'all's situation, but this is your home, the same as it's ours. And we're going to do everything we can to figure out what happened to Dr. Cain. Besides, I'm kind of hoping I run into that Mina Laroché again…I think I owe her a good, home-grown butt whoopin'."

Rico laughed.

Blushing, Paige said, "Guess I slipped up a little with my accent."

"No," he quickly said. "I thought it was cool. I didn't realize you even had one until now. You tryin' to hide it?"

"Not really. I mean, I figure the leader of the X-Men can't sound like someone that just stepped off the farm. You know?"

"Accent doesn't matter. It's what you bring to the table that's important. Where'd you grow up?"

"Kentucky. On a farm. With my ma, Sam, Josh, Lizzy, Joelle, Mel, Jeb, Lew, and—"

"Wow. You've got a huge family."

"Yeah. It was kind of fun because I always had someone there. But it was hard on my ma. Pa was in a fatal mining accident a few years back. Since then, she's been working nonstop to support the family. That's part of the reason I wanted to leave—I wanted to ease her burden a little bit. And since Sam had gone to Xavier's and enjoyed it so much, I wanted to come here too. But I ended up coming here much sooner than I wanted to."

Puzzled, Rico asked, "Did something happen?"

Paige took a deep breath, recalling the entire situation as if it had happened yesterday. "Monet, Angelo, Clarice, and I were kidnapped by Harvest, a member of the Phalanx." Noticing his quizzical stare, she explained, "From what I've gathered, the Phalanx is kind of a cybernetic alien race that can infect people with the Transmode Virus, which allows them to absorb and change people into Phalanx beings. We were captured as a lab experiment for them, since they couldn't completely assimilate mutants. They wanted to study us to figure out just how to do that. And in the process, I was infected with the Transmode Virus."

"The Transmode Virus?" he repeated.

"Yeah. It's how they turn organic stuff into techno-organic stuff. Lucky for me, we were working with a psychopath—Sabretooth—who actually saved my life. After that, we fought against Harvest, and ultimately, our friend, Clarice, saved us all."

Rico noticed Paige trail off at the mention of Clarice and immediately assumed the worst. "Did something happen to Clarice?"

"She had the ability to create a teleportation field, which could be directed at a particular object. But I don't think she could control it well, so instead it created an effect that summed up to an object being teleported piece by piece. In the end, she used her powers to defeat Harvest, but she was caught in her own teleportation field."

Rico was stunned for a moment. But after thinking about it for a moment, he asked, "So she was teleported somewhere else?"

Paige shook her head regretfully. "Rico, Clarice…she died. She was caught in her teleportation field, and she was just gone."

He shook his head as if he simply couldn't accept that explanation. "She can't just be dead. That doesn't make sense. Here, I'll show you—Cerebra, list known teleporters. Now, list teleportation abilities and realms, linking them to the teleporters associated with them." Immediately, a three-dimensional, rotating, full-body shot appeared of various X-Men and allies, past and present with a small descriptive paragraph next to them. "Here we go. Nightcrawler…he teleports through an unknown dimension. Magik teleported through Limbo. It says here that Lila Cheney has to go to a Dyson Sphere to teleport somewhere else. Cloak teleports through the Darkforce Dimension." Rico turned to Paige, and asked, "You see what I'm getting at here? Teleporting isn't as simple as disappearing and reappearing somewhere else. It's really just using another place where time and distance are relatively different from ours as a way to travel from one point to another. But think about it, what if any one of those people got stuck in that place?"

Paige shook her head. "There's no telling. Something similar happened to Magik. She was gone only a few seconds, but had aged about seven years while she was trapped in Limbo. Sam told me about it. But if what you're saying is true, then Clarice could be alive?"

"I don't know," Rico regretfully said. "I don't want to give anyone any false hope or go too far out on a limb, but what if she is?"

The question hung in the air as Paige's mind raced. His explanation made sense, but why hadn't anyone thought of that before? _Because you saw her disappear piece by piece,_ Paige painfully reminded herself. But still, if there was some chance, something that no one may have thought of, then they had to try.

Snapping her head toward the screen, she said, "Cerebra, search database and record coordinates of Clarice Ferguson's disappearance. Perform mutant energy trace, using maximum and minimum teleportation parameters." Turning to Rico, Paige explained, "These kinds of things can take a while, with the variable time and distance involved with teleporting. The trace could go on for potentially millions of miles, several times over."

A pang of guilt hit Rico. "Look, I didn't mean to force you into this. I mean if she's not alive—"

"She sacrificed herself without hesitation to save us. I guess we just didn't think about the possibility of her being alive after seeing her torn apart right in front of our eyes. But you had a good point, and with the power of Cerebra, maybe we'll find something. It's worth a shot, right?"

Rico nodded, glad that Paige was receptive to the idea. But he hoped that his idea wasn't too far-fetched. If they didn't find anything, he was afraid that it would be just like reliving her death all over again. Deciding to change the subject, he said, "So, I'm a huge nerd. I have every newspaper and magazine article about the X-Men. Ever since I found out that I could control the wind, I've wanted to be an X-Man. You know, they're the outlaw heroes of the mutant world, with their cool costumes and grand fights. It seems like they're always saving big cities or the world. But my only question is how in the world do they make income? Being a superhero is a full-time job so…" Rico trailed off.

Paige laughed. "That's a good question. I never really thought about that before. I'll have to ask Sam sometimes. Or maybe we'll just corner someone next time we go to the mansion. I'm sure we can get Bobby to spill the beans."

A flashing red banner at the bottom of the screen caught Rico's eye, interrupting the lightened mood. "Hey, Paige, what's that alert for?"

"I'm not sure. Cerebra, detail alert. Full audio."

The female voice replied, "Security lockout activated by remote mobile device #3X4512AW098."

"Pull up device info," Paige commanded. A list of information appeared next to a three-dimensional picture of a palm pilot, rotating slowly on a vertical axis. Scanning the info, Paige gasped. "It's Mr. Cassidy's palm pilot. But why would he activate the security system? Continue details on security lockout."

"Mobile device information will be purged. Immediate ground security measures will be activated, using extreme danger scenario. Anti-teleportation/phasing/psi field in effect. Alert will be forwarded to Cerebro before powering down. All information will be saved and will resume once powered up."

Rico met Paige's concerned glance and said, "Extreme danger scenario? Powering down? That doesn't sound good."

Immediately, shutters began to slam all throughout the school and almost simultaneously, the lights went out, leaving them in near darkness. Without realizing it, they had moved closer, holding their breath until the last of the shutters had slammed closed. A foreboding darkness and silence closed in around them.

"What kind of a security program cuts off all the power and locks us in?" Rico whispered, acutely aware of the ebbing quiet.

"It's either meant to keep us safe from whatever's out there or to keep something in here. The power prevents any electric-like mutants from continuing to attack us. And the field keeps anyone from teleporting or phasing in or out. Even psychics can't get past it."

"So as it stands, we're trapped unless we figure someway to turn this back on."

"Maybe the fuse box is controlled through Cerebra, so all we would have to do is manually flip the switch, and power should come back on. But I don't know if the system will be overloaded or not. I know where the fuse box is, so I'll go up and flip it. Stay here and make sure when the power comes back on, we don't have to input anything within a certain amount of time as a security precaution."

"Got it."

"We'll stay in contact with our phones. We can't use the radio function since Cerebra's out." Paige reached into a hidden compartment underneath the console and fished out two flashlights, handing one to Rico as she clicked hers on.

"There aren't going to be any security surprises like moving lasers or swinging pendulums, are there?" Rico half-jokingly, half-seriously asked.

Paige's lips curled into an amused smile. "Let's hope not. I'll let you know when I reach the fuse box." Flashlight in hand, Paige strode out of the room confidently, displaying bravado that impressed Rico.

But once in the dark, the entire school suddenly seemed to have a menacing, sinister aura about it. Every shadow teemed with life, hiding something in its eternal blackness. Every darkened doorway led to an even darker room, which seemed to stretch forever. Paige suddenly felt less than brave as she found herself stealthily maneuvering through the once familiar school.

_You're being silly. There's nothing here. Just get to the fuse box and turn on the lights, Paige,_ she told herself. But her nerves still weren't calmed, and Paige found herself expecting something horrific to jump out at her from the shadows any second. Climbing the stairs, Paige then moved through the third floor hallway to the last door on the left.

Paige had to force the door to open it, surprised that it was so difficult. The stairs leading up were narrow and creaked, which only fueled her imagination of being in a horror situation. When she got to the top, she breathed a sigh of relief as the beam from the flashlight fell on the fuse box.

"Rico, it's Paige," she whispered into her phone. "I'm at the fuse box. Are you ready?"

"It's about time. I was getting worried. I'm good down here. Just flip the switch when you're ready."

Paige closed her hand around the switch but as she prepped to pull it, a soft glow from the far side of the attic caught Paige's eye. Momentarily forgetting about the switch, she turned slowly toward the light, finding that it was originating from behind a door that she didn't remember seeing when she first came in. "Rico?" Paige whispered breathily. "Is there anything in the layout of the attic that shows an additional room?"

"Hold on…let me—" she heard rustling as Rico rummaged around and pulled out the blueprints for the school. "Well, it's kind of weird. I think what you're calling the attic is actually the forth floor of this place. But I'm showing that a wall was built sometime ago between the rooms and where you're standing. Is something wrong?

Her throat tightened and for a moment, thought she wouldn't be able to respond. Swallowing hard, she stammered, "No—yes—I don't know."

"Paige, what the hell's going on? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Paige steadied her voice. "Yeah—everything's fine. Just give me a minute."

She crossed the attic with slow, deliberate steps and pushed open the door. Now in a hallway similar to ones in the other parts of the school, she continued to follow the stream of light. As she stepped deeper into the hallway, the air became thick and heavy, making it hard to breathe. Still, Paige's curiosity pushed her forward, though her mind screamed otherwise.

From one of the doorways ahead, where the light was coming from, she heard the rustling of paper. "Hello? Is someone there?" she called, then immediately chastised herself. _I'm one of those dumb girls in those silly horror movies._ Shaking her head and straightening her posture, she charged into the room, ready to confront whoever or whatever was there.

Nothing had prepared her for what she saw, and it took everything she had not to scream.

The moderate-sized room was lined with rows of desks, each one occupied by a translucent girl, who stared raptly at the front of the room. Giving off a faded blue light, each girl couldn't have been older than twelve or younger than ten, all dressed in similar apparel—a white button-down blouse, skirt, high socks and leather shoes. The only varying quality was their hair, though most simply pulled it back into a low ponytail.

_Ghosts! _

That was the first thing that came to her mind and the only suitable explanation for what she saw. She immediately remembered every scary story Sam told her about ghosts taking away little children and causing people to disappear, and her palms became slick with a thin glaze of sweat. She willed herself to take a step back, but her body was completely frozen in place.

Until the girl in the middle row turned and locked eyes with her.

Her dark, menacing eyes bored into Paige's, searching deeply for something. Paige finally screamed, breaking the gaze, and staggered away from the room. Her instincts took over, and she scrambled back through the hallway, the beam of the flashlight bouncing back and forth, barely lighting her path.

"Oh my God…Rico…!" Paige called.

"Paige! What's wrong with you?!"

"I—" she started, but as fate would have it, some unseen obstacle tripped her, and she went down hard. The flashlight clattered to the floor, sliding away from her, slowly rotating in the middle of the hallway, making the darkness come alive.

"Paige! Answer me! What the hell—"

"Listen," Paige breathed into the phone. "It's haunted. There are ghosts up here. I know it doesn't make any sense, but—oh no."

She watched as the apparitions floated from the classroom into the hallway, all of their menacing gazes locked on her. Without waiting another moment, Paige clambered to her feet and ran, leaving the flashlight behind. She heard static erupt from her phone and knew that despite the advanced technology, the supernatural could easily override and defeat it.

Cut off from Rico and running for her life, Paige prayed that she was fast enough to escape whatever fate the ghosts had planned for her.

II.

"Dammit! So much for alien technology," Rico said as he stared at the static-filled phone. He studied the blueprints quickly, noting the most likely path Paige took to the attic and was ready to venture out of the security room when he heard something.

A deep, bass-filled thud reverberated through the room. Then it was quickly followed by another. Then another. Like footsteps increasing in pace. And they were getting closer.

"Dios!" Rico exclaimed, immediately searching for a hiding place. _The closet! _ He ran over, threw open the door, and closed it all but a crack so he could still view the room. Luckily, he had a good vantage point and all but one corner was visible to him.

The door never opened, but suddenly, Rico felt as if someone else were in the room. And then he saw something—the faint image of a girl. _A ghost!_ But ghosts weren't real, were they? He tried to blink away the image, but the girl remained.

The young girl was crying, pulling herself across the ground as if she had lost the ability to walk. Tears streamed down her face as she frightfully glanced back towards the door. "Please," she pleaded. "I won't be bad again. I'll be a good girl!" She was dragged by her ankle by some unseen force and thrown against the far wall, and she cried out in pain, racked with more sobs and pleas.

Rico's mouth was dry and he barely breathed.

As the girl pressed herself against wall, she started crying hysterically as she stared at something only she could see, her eyes wide with fear. "No! No!" she screamed as her arms tried to block whatever threat was coming down on her. Like a movie, the entire scene seemed to just pause, and the girl faded away like a dream.

He let out a breath, realizing he had been holding it the entire time. _What the hell was that? Am I crazy? _Rico couldn't convince himself that what he had just seen was real, and his mind was already trying to find ways to rationalize it. But deep down, he knew that there was no denying that he had just seen a ghost. And if that was true, he and Paige were in a lot more trouble than he initially thought.

He stepped quietly out of the closet, inspecting the room, but finding no other trace of the ghost girl or her invisible assailant. He could only imagine what Paige had seen only minutes ago. Rico gathered himself and bolted from the computer room, determined to find her before something else did.

III.

After the hallways turned into a darkened maze of deceptive turns, Paige found herself in the library. Oddly constructed as an add-on, the four-story library was perpendicular to both wings of the building, having entry points on all four floors. Large bookshelves lined the walls on every floor and created a labyrinth which varied across each floor. A large spiral staircase in the middle of it all connected the floors, bringing it all together.

Having entered on the third floor instead of leading the ghosts right back to Rico, Paige crept quietly through the aisles between the floor-to-ceiling bookcases, listening intently for any noises that would indicate she wasn't alone. She jumped when a deep, booming thud seemed to sound from far away but drew no closer. Glancing around, barely able to make out the books in the shelves, Paige squinted, hoping to somehow to improve her vision in the darkness. Then at the end of the aisle, an ethereal glow caught her eye as it began to glow brighter.

Paige gasped as the light became a figure—a girl.

_It's the girl that looked at me!_

Paige gasped and took a step backwards, ready to bolt at the slightest provocation. The girl's menacing glare softened, as she reached out her hand. Paige shook her head as if denying the ghost's existence, moving no closer to the outstretched, translucent hand. She turned to leave, but the ghost girl was suddenly right in front of her, blocking the way. Paige screamed and stumbled, barely recovering her balance.

"What do you want?" she blurted out, unsure if the girl would even understand.

The girl's dark eyes focused on the far bookcase and immediately, every book on the shelf came to life, whipping through the air as if caught in a tornado. Then a single book fell between them with a deafening thud. Paige jumped, her heart pounding against the back of her ribcage as all the other books returned to their proper place as if they hadn't been disturbed. Forcing herself to move, she leaned down to inspect the book never taking her eyes off the ghost. She noted the worn leather cover of the personal journal, aged well past a few decades. She caught the ghost looking at her expectantly, and Paige opened the cover, finding a name written in the front.

"Hannah McMurray?" Paige inquired as she eyed the girl. "Are you Hannah? Is there—is something here that I should read?"

The girl nodded slowly, as if it took all her strength for the simple gesture.

Paige couldn't immediately discern why she had agreed to follow the ghost's directions, but if it gave her more time to think of a way out, she was willing to do whatever the ghost directed, within reason. She had only turned a few pages, skimming the neat handwriting before a bass-filled _thump_ sounded from somewhere not too far off. The sound became repetitive and quickened in speed, making her immediately think of Juggernaut running at full speed down the hallway.

But no one could get into the school. Which meant that whatever was making the noise was already in the school.

_Another ghost? _Paige thought. But when she turned to Hannah, she saw the ghost's expression of terror, she knew that whatever was coming was the real danger. And it was coming for them.

Grasping the diary in one hand, she said, "I don't know what that thing is, but I don't think we should stick around to find out. I can help you, but you have to trust me. And I'll trust you, okay?" When the girl nodded affirmatively, Paige smiled. "Follow me."

IV.

Rico was sure that the entire layout of the school had changed in the darkness. Maybe it was a part of the security features to morph the architecture, but he thought that it was the wrong time for the security system to be operating flawlessly.

He dashed up the stairs, his heart racing as the heavy footsteps sounded again. This time, the sound boomed from the direction of the library. Already at the third floor, he sprinted down the hallway, trying to remember which door led to the library. He remembered someone mentioning it, but even after being at the school for a week, he hadn't actually been.

"Paige!" he called, hoping for an answer. In response, a door flew open, and he found himself wrapped up in another set of arms. His breath caught, and for a moment, he thought everything was over.

"Oh my god! Rico!" Paige gasped. She held him tightly for a moment, thankful for a familiar, warm body.

Rico pulled back, still aware of the oncoming footsteps, and his eyes immediately rested on Hannah's spectral image. "Paige, what the hell is going on? And who is your imaginary buddy that I can clearly see right now?"

"I don't know what's going on. The girl, her name is Hannah. She gave me this diary," she held up the book. "Maybe there's something in it that will tell us what's going on." As she finished, her eyes wandered over Rico's shoulder and she saw a group of menacing, floating girls soaring straight towards them with outstretched hands. "Rico!" she exclaimed.

Rico spun around and without hesitation redirected the air currents within the school, creating a gale force wind. The attack hit the ghosts hard, and their form dispersed. "Come on!" He grabbed Paige's hand and bolted through the hallway, and Hannah stayed close behind. The ghosts recomposed behind them, more determined than ever to catch up to them, fueled by rage and hatred.

Paige chanced a glance over her shoulder, and nearly screamed as the ghosts closed the gap faster than before. "They're getting closer!" she warned.

Rico halted, spun on his heel, and focused the air currents into a forceful wind, directed by an outstretched hand. But instead of being torn apart, the ghosts simply charged forward against the wind, as if they had adapted to the attack and were now impervious. Frustrated, he concentrated harder, increasing the force of the wind, but keeping it focused to keep from tearing down the school around them. But his efforts were fruitless as the ghosts drew closer, unfazed by the attack.

Hannah appeared next to him and placed her hand on top of his free hand, and her translucent aura glowed brighter, transferring the luminescence into the air currents at Rico's control. The wind became visible, with waves of dancing light, and when it hit the pursuing ghosts, it was as if they had run into a brick wall. They flailed backwards, catapulted into the endless darkness of the hallway, towards their unseen pursuer.

Amazed, Rico released his control over the air currents, and the hallway returned to its still and quiet existence. The silence blanketed them and quickly became an uneasy, foreboding void of sound. Until tortured screams tore through the school, hundreds of child-like voices howling in pain, causing him and Paige to cover their ears.

Then it was over.

The footsteps began once again, heading straight for the trio, and they wasted no time in retreating.

"We've gotta go somewhere it can't go," Rico said, leading the way. They clumsily clambered down the stairs, nearly falling as they skipped steps and sharply turned on the landings.

"The Danger Room," Paige replied between steps. "It's impenetrable and has its own lockdown procedures."

Rico shook his head but nearly lost his balance. Regaining it, he said, "We don't have any power!"

Paige continued to descend the stairs until they were on the first floor. Then, she headed directly for the Danger Room. Shouting, she said to Rico, "It's on a separate generator considering how much power it uses. It has its own security system, so we should be able to initiate the same lockout procedures inside."

She reached the entrance first, punched in the code, and quickly led the way inside. When both Hannah and Rico had crossed the threshold, she said, "Cerebra, initiate extreme security lockdown procedures for the Danger Room. Send alert to all mobile devices."

The robotic female voice responded, "Lockdown procedures initiated. Now complete. Switching to reserve air supply and water supply."

Just as Cerebra finished the announcement, the footsteps abruptly stopped on the other side of the Danger Room door.

Paige took a retreating step back, as she sucked in a breath and held it. When the deafening _boom_ shook the door, she jumped reflexively, her heart once again racing. Though Rico stood between her and the door, trying to be brave, she could tell that fear had begun to overshadow his bravado. Still he didn't move, and she found herself respecting him for it.

She could feel Hannah's presence behind her, which felt less eerie now than before. Along the way, she had somehow stopped thinking of Hannah as a ghost and more like a young girl who needed help.

"You think it's going to get through?" Rico asked over his shoulder. Though his face had paled, his voice was strong and steady.

She nervously pushed her hair behind her ear. "I think we'll be okay. The door's supposed to me made of an adamantium alloy, mixed with a bunch of other hard metals."

They both jumped as the unidentified threat on the other side pounded furiously on the door, determined to reach them for whatever purpose it had in mind.

Rico pointed to the control room with his chin. "We'll at least have another door in between us and whatever's on the other side."

She nodded in agreement, falling in behind Rico as he half-ran, half-glided toward the elevator. Hannah trailed closely behind, chancing a fearful glance at the door as it continued to shake under the merciless strikes. As soon as the trio was in place, a platform appeared underneath them and whisked them into the control room.

The sounds from below barely carried into the room, and they all found themselves relaxing slightly.

"Cerebra, activate emergency security protocol for control booth. Initiate Danger Room environment—desert landscape." Turning to Rico, Paige explained, "If it gets in here, maybe the landscape will keep it from finding us at least for a little while."

"Yeah, until it realizes we're up here."

"But for now, we're practically invisible to the outside world. This room blocks mental emissions." Paige turned her attention to the worn diary in her hand. "Maybe this will explain things," she suggested as she carefully opened the cover.

Paige read through the diary with Rico over her shoulder, as Hannah watched from the other side of the control booth. Her dark eyes never left the two of them, as they continued to read, their faces slowly transforming into looks of shock and horror. After the last page, she closed the diary and did her best to blink back tears.

She stood and crossed the room, then kneeled next to Hannah. The young girl's eyes were distant and vacant, as they stayed transfixed on something neither Paige nor Rico could see. "Hannah, can I see your arms?" she asked, her voice quivering. The girl responded, gently pulling up the sleeve of her button-down white shirt. Underneath, scars lined her arms both old and fresh.

Paige stifled a gasp as her stomach knotted. "Let me see your back. I promise, I won't hurt you."

The girl responded, turning away from Rico as she unbuttoned her shirt. Pulling it down, Paige studied more scars splashed across her back. She heard Rico's mumble of disbelief, as she herself pieced together what they read in the diary and what she now saw. Hannah pulled her shirt up, and turned back around, tears streaming down her face.

"Honey, I'm so sorry," Paige said as she reached for the girl. Hannah rested her head on her shoulder and for the first time in almost a hundred years, she cried. Tears fell from Paige's eyes too as he held the cold girl closely, wishing that there was something more she could do.

For now, all they could do was wait, and hope that someone found them before the malevolent entity outside of the Danger Room did.

V.

Monet perked up when the limo slowed to a stop and the window between them and the driver slowly lowered. "Sorry for interrupting, but it seems that the gate won't open. The remote isn't working, and I can't seem to reach anyone inside."

Jono, Monet, and Jubilee climbed out of the car, immediately expecting some sort of threat or danger. But everything was quiet and somber—the only thing out of place was the steel shutters over all of the windows and front doors.

"Like what the heck?!" Jubilee exclaimed. "Did Paige an' Rico like lock us out or somethin'?"

"Easily remedied," Monet said. She pulled out her cell phone and punched in a twelve digit code. Suddenly the gate opened and the shutters on the windows and doors began to rise and the gate swung open. "Simple enough. Let's go."

Perplexed, Jubilee asked, "How did ya like get the super-secret code for the security system?"

"I have my ways," Monet deviously smiled as she strode through the gate.

Rolling her eyes, Jubilee turned to the driver. "I think ya might like wanna stay here, dude. There's no tellin' what's gonna go down. I'd hate ta have ta like tell Ol' Frosty that her fave driver got totally roasted by some baddie. Cool?"

The driver nodded in understanding. But then, he replied, "Hey! You kids be careful. I don't want to explain to Ms. Frost how her students got roasted by some crazed, fire-breathing mutant."

Jubilee flashed an amused smile and winked. "Thanks!"

He gave a thumbs-up as the three students headed toward the school. Jono took the lead, opening the door slowly. The interior didn't appear to have been razed by a destructive intruder…in fact, everything seemed normal. Yet, there was something ominous about the quiet and stillness.

"Paige?" Jubilee called, eagerly awaiting some kind of response. But after a few moments, she shook her head. "Like are they even here?"

_"I 'ope nothin' 'appened to 'er,"_ Jono said as concern began to solidify in his eyes. _"Paige!"_ he called much louder, hoping that he telepathic call would reach her. Unless she was unconscious, he figured that she would be able to hear him.

"Can the both of you please stop shouting like you're searching for lost children on the playground? If they are here, they could simply be in the Danger Room control room. The maximum security measures were activated, and that is the one room in this place that blocks telepathic emissions as well as outside telepathic communication with anyone inside. However, there seems to be a lingering, unidentifiable psychic energy. I cannot immediately discern an identity or pinpoint its specific location..."

But before she could continue, two figured bolted from the hallway.

"Jono!" Paige cried, breaking Monet's concentration. She fell into his arms, as withheld sobs finally spilled forth. "I'm so glad you're back. There were ghosts and this girl, and she was—" she trailed off, overcome with more sobs.

_"It's alright. Whatever 'appened is all over now,"_ Jono stiffly hugged her back, still divided over his personal feelings, but wanting to adequately comfort her. He ran his fingers through her silky hair and pressed closely, suddenly feeling much more comfortable. And she drew closer to him.

His olive complexion slightly ashen, Rico tried to pick up where Paige left off. "You guys don't understand. This place is—was—could still be—haunted!" he frantically responded. He glared at the expressions of disbelief from Monet and Jubilee, as he felt his own agitation rising. "I don't care if you guys believe us or not, but we just spent the past hour running away from ghosts and invisible stomping monsters."

Paige drew back from Jono, wiping the back of her hand across her eyes. She blushed slightly, embarrassed that not only was she crying, but she had almost automatically fallen into his arms, of all people. Obviously uncomfortable, he averted his eyes, and she was quickly reminded of why she shouldn't have fallen all over him.

Composing herself, she explained, "Something happened here before, when it was some kind of school for girls. This diary is the only link to what really happened back then," Paige said, handing it to Monet.

Monet took the diary as she explained. "The Massachusetts Academy was the preceding nomenclature of this institution, established in the eighteen hundreds, when this facility was utilized as a boarding school for girls, long before Emma's residence here with her previous students. It was shut down in the early nineteen hundreds due to unsolved disappearances of the students here."

"Like, whoa. Please do not tell me you've got like some kinda psychometric powers now," Jubilee frowned.

Monet rolled her eyes. "Unlike you, Lee, I take the time to fully research any institution I pledge myself to attend. Aside from that, if the answer to this ghost story is in this diary, I am the most capable of deciphering it in a timely manner."

"And jus' what makes ya think that?" Jubilee asked.

Monet brushed a long strand of hair behind her ear. "Photographic memory, and I can speed-read," she answered as she focused on the diary. At superhuman speed, she flipped through the book, her eyes scanning each page, absorbing the text of each page without missing a beat. In mere seconds, she closed the diary, but her face had paled. "Mon Dieu!" she murmured in disbelief. "Paige. These girls—"

Paige nodded in understanding, taking the book back. "It may seem impossible to you guys, but one of the girls led me to this diary. I think that's what she wanted—the truth to be known."

Rico added, "So we're going to make sure the police get this. But we also want to make sure that they inform the families. They deserve to know."

Jubilee crossed her arms and frowned. "Wait! Like why doesn't someone fill me in? What happened?"

Paige turned toward her teammate to give her the gist of the story when she noticed a torn piece of cloth secured around Jubilee's upper arm. A small dark stain had managed to seep through, and she brought her hand to her mouth in horror. "Jubilee, you're hurt!"

"It's like nothin', really," Jubilee shrugged. "Just got mixed up with some like whacko gunmen on the subway train."

Paige felt her stomach drop. "Oh no! I knew I should have called you. On the news, they talked about a terrorist group that's been raiding the subways. I didn't think that you'd be down there since you had the limo. I'm so sorry. I could've—"

"An illogical conclusion, Paige," Monet's tone left no room for argument. "Regardless of our presence or not, the terrorists would have intimidated the citizens on that train with their rhetoric of mutant hate. Our presence may have agitated the situation, but no harm came to the citizens, and the police were able to arrest the culprits. The responsibility lies not on you, but on those individuals with prejudice upon their hearts."

Despite the logical rationale provided, Paige didn't exactly feel like she had made the right decision by not calling them. But there was no way she would even begin to argue the point with Monet. After everything that had happened, she just wanted to crawl into bed until morning.

"I guess," Paige weakly responded, taking a seat on the couch. "I'm going to wait until Ms. Frost gets back before going to the police with this."

"That's probably a good idea," Rico offered, giving Paige's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "When we do go, I'm going with you. I want to see this through to the end too."

"Thanks, Rico," Paige attempted a smile.

Jubilee glanced at her watch. "Like everyone should be gettin' back soon. We'll have ta tell Frosty and Banshee about everythin' that happened today."

"Yeah, so much for a quiet break before school," Rico responded.

Unbeknownst to the students, before the day was out, things were going to get much worse.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional

This chapter is based off of Generation X #74


	15. A Single Day: Michael

I.

The Snow Valley Police Department satellite station had never looked so foreign to Michael Lawson. Parking across the street, he lightly jogged to the other side, regarding the building like it was a fortress of doom. A chilling breeze whipped through the trees, swaying light branches, adding an air of unwelcoming oppression to the entire scene.

For a moment, he thought about turning around and returning to the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, halting at the edge of the street. Quite honestly, he really didn't have to do this today. Considering it was the last free weekend before school started, he supposed he should be out having fun like the rest of his teammates. But then again, he didn't want this confrontation to loom over him any longer. He took a steadying breath and started toward the building confidently.

Until he saw Jude McDowell.

Jude strode down the sidewalk, drumming his hands energetically in time with whatever song was blaring on his iPod. Despite his jock-frat boy appearance, he had his moments of playful goofiness, which is what Michael liked about him. But right now, he wasn't in the mood for the flurry of questions Jude would undoubtedly bombard him with.

Instead of drawing attention, he stood still, hoping Jude would continue being absorbed in his music long enough to enter the building without noticing him. No such luck.

"Mike!"

_Dammit_, he cursed, thinking that he should have psychically scanned the area before jumping out of the RX-8. "Jude," Michael flashed a nervous smile, but quickly regained his composure. He didn't want to give any reason for Jude to ask him questions that he wasn't ready to answer.

Jude angled his path toward Michael, a broad smile appearing as he closed the gap. "Dude, where the hell have you been? I was beginning to think you had quit without telling me." He joined Michael as they continued toward the large, wooden double doors then opened the door for him once they reached it. "After you, man," he said as he followed.

"Thanks," Michael's voice came out a bit strained. "Listen. Sorry about not showing up. Things have been kind of crazy over the past week." He was sure that his medium-brown face was some deep shade of red, since it felt like his entire face was burning from embarrassment and the anticipation of revealing his secret building.

Michael noticed that there were several people milling around in the hallways, but he had no trouble blocking out their thoughts. Surprisingly, he realized that subconsciously, he was effectively blocking out all of the psychic noise around him, something that only a week ago, he couldn't do.

_Are my powers evolving on their own?_ As strange as the question sounded, it was the only explanation he could come up with for his increased control and strength with his telekinesis and psychic abilities. _But how far will they evolve? Just how powerful will I get?_

"I'm sure," Jude agreed, breaking Michael out of his thoughts. "Transferring schools right at the beginning of the year can be a little hectic."

The blood rushed from Michael's face, and he suddenly felt off balance. Steadying himself, he stopped short and stared at Jude, still searching for a negative reaction. "How—how did you know?"

Jude shrugged nonchalantly. "Dude. Amy was talking about it earlier this week with Susie and Rena at Mac's Diner. And you know Rena. She told me as soon as she got home," Jude smiled, remembering the concerned expression his sister had as she retold what she had learned from Amy.

_Of course,_ Michael said to himself. He probably should have done some mind-wipe trick to keep gossiping Amy from telling the world about his transfer. He would have rather told everyone at his convenience, rather than become the next gossip hot topic. A bit heated now, he mumbled, "People definitely like to gossip around here."

"Are you surprised? It's not that big of a town. Within an hour, you can expect everyone to know your business," Jude explained as if it were a simple fact of the town's workings. "But Mike, it's not that big of a deal. I figured _you_ would've told me, unless you were trying to keep it a secret."

His face continuing to grow hot, Michael broke Jude's gaze. How was he supposed to tell him that he didn't trust him with the information? That he wanted to simply live a normal life without the stigma of being a mutant being placed on him? That from this day forward, everyone was going to look at him differently? The options raced through his mind at a dizzying speed, and again, Michael thought that this was a bad idea.

He opened his mouth to respond, but stopped abruptly when Chief Daniel Authier, walking with his daughter, Tracy, rounded the corner. The two were talking between themselves, but when Chief Authier noticed Jude and Michael, he stopped and gave them a friendly smile.

"Morning, you two," Dan greeted. Despite being the chief of the Snow Valley Police Department, Dan had an amicable personality. His friendly blue eyes and smile made people trust him almost instantly. Tall, muscular, and young-looking, Dan didn't look the part of a police chief. Most people mistook him for a mechanic or construction worker, and he definitely didn't look old enough to have a fifteen year old daughter. "Aren't you two here a bit early?"

"Yeah, I needed the peace and quiet. Rena's arguing with my parents about going to some party tonight. Whatever," Jude shrugged, adjusting his black backpack slung over his shoulder.

Tracy's light brown eyes lit up. "Are you talking about Amy's party? Tonight? Jude, you've gotta help her out. It's not going to be the same without her. Besides, you're going. Maybe you could convince your parents that you'll watch her."

Jude frowned at Tracy. "I'm not going to babysit her. Especially because she has the bad habit of doing what she wants. Then we'll both be in trouble."

"Just make it happen, and stop being mean," Tracy said with finality.

"So what about you, Mike? Why are you here so early?" Dan asked.

_Out of the frying pan and into the fire,_ Michael immediately thought as he tried to smile but failed miserably. He thought about making a quick excuse about being sick or having to do something with the school so he could leave, but then he realized that he wasn't particularly good at lying. Surely, the Chief would see right through it, which would only make matters worse.

As his brown eyes darted back and forth, Tracy took note of his suspicious behavior. "Hey, what's wrong with you today? You seem kinda off," Tracy said with genuine concern.

Michael glanced at Jude who simply shrugged in response, leaving him to fend for himself. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Everything's fine," he began but then corrected himself. "Actually, no. I—I should have told you guys sooner, but I enrolled at Xavier's."

"The Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters?" Tracy clarified. "I didn't know you were that smart. I heard that you have to have a GPA of at least three-point-eight for them to even consider your application."

Michael searched for the rest of his words. "But that's not all. I—I…" his voice trailed off as he hesitated, looking from face to face for some sort of signal that he shouldn't continue. But they were hanging onto his words, waiting for him to finish, so he did. "The fact is that I'm a mutant."

Hearing himself say it sounded awkward and foreign, and for a moment, he wasn't sure that he had actually said it. His heart pounded against his rib cage, and the butterflies in his stomach felt more like huge bats, frantically swarming within a tiny cage. He then realized that he was holding his breath, waiting for someone to say something.

"Is your schedule still going to allow you to work here on the weekends?" Dan asked, seemingly unfazed by Michael's revelation.

_Didn't he hear what I said?!_ Michael thought. He expected Chief Authier to fume and throw him out of the precinct, calling him a mutie, while Tracy and Jude looked on in utter disgust. Yet, no one had said anything, as if nothing out of the ordinary had been said.

"Umm. What?" Michael fumbled. "I mean, yeah. I guess. I really don't know my schedule yet." Michael searched the Chief's face and found nothing inauthentic about his question. He didn't dare read his mind though.

"Hey, you better not leave me alone on shift," Jude warned with a smile.

Michael thought he was in a fairy tale. Things weren't supposed to be this easy. His own parents kept their distance because of his powers, but here, with people he had only known a short time, he was accepted without hesitation. It didn't make sense and for a moment, he thought that they were just pretending, waiting until they saw an opening before throwing him out into the street.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Michael took a deep breath. "I don't understand. I just told you guys I was a mutant. The people in this town hate mutants, or that's what it seems like to me."

"Mike," Dan began, "it took a lot of guts for you to admit that you're a mutant, especially because there are people in this town that don't have positive feelings about them. And you're obviously putting a lot on the line by enrolling at Xavier's. You know that I've always told you that you can talk to me about anything. You can trust me. You can trust Tracy. You and Jude are friends, and trust is a part of friendship. Being a mutant doesn't change who you are, unless you let it. You may be a mutant, but to me, you're no different from the first day you walked through that door. And that's how we're going to treat you."

Michael suddenly felt foolish for putting himself through so much stress over the situation. Everything that Chief Authier made logical sense, and he realized he was being illogical and emotional about the whole thing.

"I just—I didn't know," his voice was hushed, a near whisper in the now empty hallway. "I don't know what to say."

Jude's mouth fell open in surprise. "Dude. You're not gonna leave us hanging like that. You've gotta tell us what kind of powers you've got."

"Or if you have a codename yet," Tracy added. "If I remember right, those kids all go by some name that kinda describes their power…in most cases."

Now Michael's embarrassment burned brightly now, but not because of being ashamed. "Well…um…my codename is Marvel. I kind of made it up last week. And I can move things just by thinking about it, communicate with my thoughts, and read minds. But I totally respect people's privacy, so I don't read minds randomly." He realized he was rambling and quickly shut up, but smiled when he saw Jude and Tracy both grinning at him.

"So that's how you cleaned up the office so fast all the time. Dude. That is pretty cool," Jude said.

Michael replied, "But I thought you didn't like mutants. I mean after your brother told those stories about Xavier's, I thought that you weren't too mutant-friendly."

"Nah. I guess it's different when you actually know a mutant. I mean, there's people like Magneto out there. But if there are people like you with powers, then I know the rest of us will be safe."

Tracy adjusted her long brown ponytail, then added, "The kids up at Xavier's are pretty cool and chill. Except that Monet girl. She's pretty stuck-up."

Michael couldn't hold back a smile. Obviously, he wasn't the only one that perceived Monet that way. "I didn't know you've been to Xavier's before."

Shifting her weight, Tracy managed a sheepish grin. "Well, yeah. Once or twice when I was hangin' with Dorian and Weasel. We…ummm…kinda broke into Xavier's and stole some of their stuff."

_That must have been way before Sean's new security system,_ Michael deduced, surprised that some mischievous teens could so easily infiltrate the school. Maybe that's why he had the security system installed. Well, that and the random evil mutants that seemed to wreck the school every other month as Michael read earlier in the week in the archives.

"Anyways, I kinda made them show me around the school, but ended up in some weird situation, that I'd rather not even try to explain. The whole thing was a mess, but ultimately, I became friends with Jubilee, Paige, and Angelo. And I'm totally not breaking into places anymore."

"Which is a good thing," Dan gave his daughter a smile. Turning his attention back to Michael, he asked, "So what made you decide to tell us now?"

It was a good question, but Michael was sure how to answer it immediately. "I don't know. I mean, I felt like I needed to be upfront and honest with all of you. I didn't want you to find out through circumstance. And I didn't want to continue to hide it from people that I trust."

Jude glanced at his watch. "I hate to break up this afterschool special, but we've gotta open up, Mike."

Smiling, Michael said, "Yeah. You're right. Chief, I don't know what I should say."

_"Sometimes saying nothing means more,"_ Dan telepathically replied, surprising Michael. "If you guys run into any trouble, you have my direct line."

"Got it, Chief. Thanks!" Jude said as he headed toward their office. "Stop standing around. We've got work to do!"

Michael watched Chief Authier and Tracy walk down the hallway and out the front doors. Nothing had gone the way he had initially thought, and for a change, he was pleased.

Turning, he ran down the hallway towards their office, and for the first time in his life, he wasn't ashamed of being a mutant.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional


	16. A Single Day: Emma

I.

Emma Frost felt the Frost International business jet bank gently, making its final descent toward a private runway in the middle of nowhere. Rubbing the back of her neck while wishing she had gotten more sleep, she checked her seatbelt again as the sign over the door to the cockpit lit up.

_I'm just ready to get this over with,_ she grumbled to herself. The whole purpose of this trip was to visit her sister Adrienne Frost, owner of Meridian Enterprises, to hopefully gain some kind of financial aid for the school. Sean protested the idea immediately, and she could understand why.

Emma was ruthless due to circumstances, but Adrienne, on the other hand, was ruthless because she loved to tear people down. She reveled in her opponents' weaknesses and flaws, which is why Emma used Adrienne as a final last resort, because she realized that her sister wouldn't let her live the request down. Ever.

Still, despite her outward demeanor, which was often times misunderstood, she resolved herself to do what was necessary in order to ensure their protection. No length was too great for Emma and just that in itself should have worried her. Despite Sean's apprehensions and objections, she decided to go out to Boston herself just to test the waters.

Noticing a strange visage on a magazine across the aisle, Emma sighed loudly. "You never learn, do you? I respond much better to direct conversation than your foolish parlor tricks, Nightmare."

The cabin of the plane darkened, as if a black curtain had lowered over the entire aircraft. Shadows squirmed and shifted as Nightmare, emanating a dim light of his own, materialized from the darkness. "Ah, it seems that I can never surprise the White Queen. Oh, how I have longed to see you again."

"I should have known that you're the one that's been interfering with my sleep. What do you want this time? Another imaginary nemesis taking over your Nightmare World?"

Nightmare snaked his lithe body behind her seat, hovering over her like a python studying its prey. "Not imaginary…my worst fear has come true. An interloper has taken over the Nightmare World. And—and," he stammered, searching for words, "I need your help. I can't defeat her alone."

"Really?" Emma nonchalantly replied, narrowing her eyes. "And why exactly should I help you? You've already used this story before, remember? Or are you getting senile in your old age?"

Nightmare appeared insulted. "I wouldn't lie to you of all people, your majesty. I only seek to find someone honest and powerful enough to assist a lowly being such as I."

"Dr. Strange not around?"

"Ummm—well, we're not exactly on good terms. Which is why I came to you. At least hear out the situation."

Emma exhaled tiredly, expressing a lack of interest and impatience. Realizing she really didn't have a choice at this point, she rolled her eyes and replied, "Go on."

A glint of pleasure shone in his crimson eyes. "A mutant woman, Anne Devereaux, calling herself Angora, has somehow infiltrated the Nightmare World. Her power caught me off guard, and she ousted me from my own castle. I—I barely escaped, but she intends to make the world suffer by making them relive the death of her husband and daughter over and over again."

"So you let some mere intruder defeat you? Ha! You could've come up with a better story. Do you really expect me to believe that? Besides, even if I did believe you, the Dream Dimension isn't my forte. In case you didn't notice, I reside in the real world."

"I speculate that she's drawing on powers and energy from this world into the Nightmare World, which is making her nearly unstoppable. But doing so is tearing down the barriers between our dimensions. These nightmares will invade this world's waking thoughts as well."

"Nice cataclysmic touch. But I'm not buying it."

"Wait. Please. I know that you're going to see your sister. And I know that you ultimately cause your students' demise."

Nightmare's last statement caught Emma off guard, and she spun halfway around to face him. "What?!"

Grinning, Nightmare slipped from behind her into the seat in front of her, barely peeking his glowing red eyes over the seat. "I have your attention now, eh? Let me show you…"

As if in a waking dream, everything disappeared around her and she found herself witnessing snippets of scenes. The infamous Dark Beast, defeating Generation X. Emma embroiled in a tense battle against Nate Grey, X-Man. Artie, frantically showing Emma the details of Sean's kidnapping. Generation X dressed in the Hellions' training uniforms, headed toward the same fate. Tears streaming down Jubilee's face as she is standing outside of her charred room, with anti-mutant vandalism splayed across the wall. And Monet, cradling Everett's lifeless body, as the remnants of an explosion rain down around them.

The images abruptly ended, leaving Emma's vision obscured for a moment before everything came back into focus. She stared in Nightmare's beady eyes, and said, "You damned liar! You're making all this up simply to force my hand, aren't you?"

"Dear Queen, you mistake my generosity for misleading cunning. Surely, the things that I show you can come to pass, no?"

Emma turned away, the images still burned in her mind. As much as she didn't want to believe what Nightmare showed her, there was a chance that he was telling the truth. And that small chance is what Emma had to focus on. "I don't understand any of it. How did—"

Already anticipating her question, Nightmare answered, "Family can be your worst enemy."

"Adrienne?" Emma gasped. She adamantly shook her head, denying his outlandish explanation. "I know firsthand of her ruthlessness and cruelty—it's something we inherited from our father. But I just can't believe she would kill innocent children just to spite me."

Nightmare laughed, incensing her. "You're much too jaded and seasoned to be that naïve. And I say that with the utmost of respect. I shall leave you to your meeting, but heed my words, woman. And when you realize what I've shown you is true, you'll find me again."

With that the shadows disappeared, and the cabins lighting returned to normal as the door opened. Over the intercom, the pilot announced, "We've arrived in Boston, Ms. Frost. I hope you had a pleasant trip."

"Splendid," Emma disgustedly mumbled as she climbed out of the plane and into a limo. Instructing the driver to waste no time, she told him to head to Meridian Enterprises. Deep down, she prayed that Nightmare was wrong, but something told her that she was walking right into the clutches of a madwoman.

II.

Emma strode out of the elevator, and easily garnering the directions to Adrienne's office psychically from passersby, navigated easily to the secretary's desk. The young woman typed busily on her computer, her light brown ponytail swinging every time she looked from the screen to the papers in front of her. If Emma hadn't known better, she would have assumed the girl was around the same age as her own students.

The perky secretary glanced away from the computer screen, greeting Emma with a genuine smile. "Good morning, ma'am. May I help you?"

_Tina McGuire. Hates her job. Hates Adrienne even more. Loves Boston. Has a crush on Adrienne's boyfriend. Loves my outfit._

"Morning, Tina. I'm here to see Adrienne. This isn't a scheduled appointment, but if you would simply show me in, it would be best for you in the long-run."

Tina looked slightly flustered in part because of the similar features this woman, dressed in a beautiful white pants suit, shared with Adrienne, in part because Tina knew that this woman would see Adrienne regardless of what Tina said, in part because Adrienne distinctly said she didn't want any visitors for the next two hours.

The girl's hesitation annoyed Emma, and she thought of simply rendering the girl unconscious and barging in. But there was no need to create any more tension than she already felt, so she waited for the girl to stammer out whatever she was trying to explain.

"Umm—ma'am—I—ummm—sorry. Ms. Frost didn't want any visitors for the next two hours. She's currently in a meeting with Mr. Alan Collins."

"Really?" Emma cocked a curious eyebrow. Alan Collins was one of her top employees at the Byrne Company. More likely than not, Adrienne was seducing him for insider information, considering that Frost Enterprises was a well-known rival of Meridian Enterprises. And a quick scan into the room validated her suspicion.

"Meeting, huh?" Emma replied. The secretary reddened as if she actually knew what was going on behind the closed door and had just been caught in a lie. "Tell me, how many meetings like this does she have with Mr. Collins?"

Still flushed, Tina quietly replied, "At least three a week. In addition to her weekly meetings with Adrian Walker and Paul Thomas, her boyfriend." Emma caught a hint of jealously as Tina mentioned Paul Thomas and smiled knowingly. "You're her sister, aren't you? Ms. Emma Frost of Frost International?"

"And you're not even psychic. Impressive."

Tina shifted uncomfortably. "Ms. Frost, please don't go in there. I don't want to lose my job. She threatens to fire me all the time."

Emma charged forward toward the doors. "Follow me, Tina. I promise this is something you'll want to witness." The oak doors opened easily, banging against the wall as Adrienne and Alan glanced up from their compromising position. Alan stood in between Adrienne's long legs, his hands cupped around her buttocks, as her arms hung around his neck. His suit jacket was on the floor, and shirt unbuttoned, showing off his muscular build. Adrienne's blouse was partly unbuttoned, showing off much more cleavage than usual.

"My, my. Looks like both of you are quite busy. Please, don't let my interruption stop you."

"Frost," Alan said, the tone of disrespect evident in his voice.

Immediately, Tina's apologies poured out. "Ms. Frost! I didn't mean for—"

"Now, now, Tina," Adrienne said as she pulled away from Alan and stood. "Don't even apologize. There's no question that you're fired, is there?"

Emma shook her head. "Now, now. Two can play that game, Adrienne." Pulling the sleek new phone out of her purse, Emma made a quick call to the Byrne Company, smiling when Frank Drexler picked up the phone. "Frank, it's Emma. As of now, Alan Collins is fired. Have security pack his things, he is no longer allowed within five hundred feet of the company's premises. Also launch an investigation—I believe he has been giving insider information to Meridian Enterprises. How do I know? I just caught him sleeping with my sister. Tina McGuire will take his position on Monday. Bachelor's in Business Administration. Working on Masters in B.A. as well. She'll be a perfect fit." Emma hung up the phone with a smug expression on her face. "Now, Tina, pack your things. Make sure you're on time for your new job on Monday. I'm sure you'll be much happier there."

In addition, Emma reached out and gave Paul the notion that he wanted to break up with Adrienne and date Tina.

Stunned, Tina tried to speak, but no words would come. Instead, she gave Emma a brief hug, but then felt a little embarrassed, turned and left the office, giving a joyous shout.

"I'm sure Adrienne will hire me on," Alan replied.

"Please. You just got fired for handing out insider information. Do you think I'm going to trust you? Get the hell out of my office!"

Reddened with anger, Alan said nothing more as he snatched his coat from the floor and stormed out of the office, not even giving Emma a second glance.

Adrienne buttoned her blouse as she said, "Well, well, well. If it isn't my dearest sister. To what do I owe this pleasure? It's not everyday that my largest rival strolls through my door."

Emma took a seat, placing her purse on the corner of Adrienne's desk. "I'm not coming to you as head of Frost International. I'm coming to you as your sister. I—" Emma paused as her chocked down the pain the next part would cause her, "I need your help. My school is having a few financial difficulties, and I'm asking you for a small loan until I can get it all straightened out."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, which was finally broken by a snicker then a full out laugh from Adrienne. "You—you want money—from—me?! Are you kidding me? This has got to be a joke. The crazy little sister that trampled all over me to become a household name in the business arena is now groveling at my feet, begging for money. Ha! I wish I had a camera right now, just to capture your face when I say no."

"No?" Emma repeated, sincerely thrown off guard by her sibling's callous reaction.

"Not used to hearing it, are you? You can't manipulate me with your psychic suggestions like you have so many others. Trust me when I say I wouldn't give you a tear to cry with. I hope that your school falls apart, and you suffer and burn in hell."

Stunned, Emma could barely believe the genuine hatred Adrienne seethed. "How can you hate me so?" she asked.

Adrienne simply smiled and replied, "Because I can."

"Thanks. I had completely forgotten how much of a bitch you can be."

"It's always my pleasure, Emma. Now, get out before I call security and have them escort you out. Forcefully."

Turning, Emma strode out of the office, purposefully leaving her purse on the table. _Now to the test of Nightmare's claim,_ Emma thought as she shut the doors far enough to where she could still peer into her sister's office without being seen. Standing against the doors, Emma caught a glimpse of Adrienne rounding her desk, taking a hold of Emma's purse.

All of the Frost female siblings developed psychic powers, but Emma developed much more aggressive abilities than her other two sisters. Cordelia, the youngest sister, had formidable psychic immunity, making her invisible to most, if not all psychics, invincible against psychic attacks and probes, and strongly resistant to mind control. Adrienne's powers were passive as well, having developed psychometry, the ability to touch an object and receive in-depth psychic reads from it, such as its owner, where it had previously been, and in some cases, the future handling of a particular object.

Right now, Emma was sure that Adrienne was getting a read off of the purse, the secrets of the school and the X-Men replaying in her mind like a movie. Emma watched for a few minutes more, using this as a test to see what Adrienne's intentions would be once she found out the true nature of the school. Emma still wanted to believe that Adrienne wouldn't try to weasel her way into Emma's life to destroy it from the inside out. But having seen the hatred Adrienne had for Emma, such a scheme couldn't be thrown off the table.

Backing away from the door, Emma purposefully struck her heels on the marble floor to alert Adrienne to her return. As Emma pushed open the door, she spied Adrienne across the office gazing out of the window with the purse sitting on the corner of the desk. _She thinks that I don't know she touched it,_ Emma deduced. "I forgot my purse," Emma announced as she snatched it from the desk and headed out.

Adrienne turned from the window, her expression uncharacteristically soft and apologetic. "Emma, wait." Her sister stopped in her tracks and turned around. "I—I was a bit out of line a few minutes ago. Things have been stressful lately, and I took it out on you. I know that we've never really been on good terms, but you're right. We are family. And we should help each other in a time of need. I think I could help you…on one condition. I would like to become the co-headmistress to your school."

_"See, Emma. This is where it begins…the decisive moment. Her way in…and you let her. She destroys what you've built, kills your students, all to get back at you," _Nightmare's telepathic warning erupted in Emma's mind as time around them seemed to slow to a standstill.

_"I didn't serve as the Hellfire Club's White Queen by being dense, fool. I'm painfully aware she's plotting something."_

_"No disrespect intended, your highness,"_ Nightmare apologized as his presence faded, and Emma found herself alone again with Adrienne.

"How—how did you know?" Emma attempted to be surprised but felt she didn't accurately portray the emotion. But Adrienne seemed to buy it just the same.

"Oh, I can make the walls talk. Or anything else for that matter," Adrienne cast a look at Emma's purse.

"What do you want as headmistress of _my_ school?"

"You don't think I want to make a difference in the world too? Sister, don't think that you're the only one that has dibs on the whole reforming bit. Maybe it's a chance for me to make sure your new students don't end up like your Hellions."

"Or maybe you want them to," Emma shot.

Adrienne shrugged. "Ha! You cut deep Emma. But that's my condition. If you want my help, then you'll agree. If not, well, the newspapers love a good story on mutant training camps. The Washington Post. The Daily Bugle. USA Today. And the list goes on."

"So, that's your plan—you're going to blackmail your way in."

"It's a win-win. You get the financial backing you need, and I get what I want."

"And what is it _exactly_ that you want?"

Adrienne smirked, her thin lips curled into a sinister smirk. "Now, Emma, I dare not share all of my intimate desires."

_"She wants to destroy you,"_ Nightmare's raspy warning came again from somewhere deep inside Emma's head.

Emma scoffed internally. _"Destroy me? Really? That's such a dramatic, old-fashioned way to ruin someone. Though not surprising."_

To Adrienne, Emma shot an accusation across the bow. "So, you think that you can ruin me by getting inside of my school and hurting my students, don't you?"

"Hmm…I thought your little psychic hoopla didn't work on me," Adrienne replied, seriously contemplating the possible ramifications. But then she shrugged, "Oh well. Whether now or later, I'll make sure everyone around you suffers then I'll stomp on your little broken heart."

Emma turned to walk out the door then stopped, turning to face her sister. "I'm not surprised, Adrienne. Where my heart has grown cold, you've shown me that you're nothing but a heartless wretch. Letting your petty jealousies motivate your actions…people like you get what they deserve. I care too much for the people around me to let you do anything to hurt them."

"Your words are meaningless, sister. I'll tear your school apart. Then watch as your mind deteriorates, and you wallow in despair."

"I won't let that happen. Ever."

"What are you going to do then, kill me?"

Emma paused at the door without turning around. "I could kill you as easily as I blink. But I won't. I'll let Nightmare decide what to do with you. My time here is done."

She watched as the room darkened, and the walls disappeared behind a cloak of shadow. Telling herself not to look back, she didn't break her stride as she shut the door behind her, closed off to Adrienne's screaming. _No less than what you would have done to my students,_ she justified as she walked away from her sister for the last time.

In part, Emma realized that this was revenge—payback for the torment and hardship Adrienne caused her, simply to secure the inheritance of their father's fortune. Another part was her desire to do whatever was within her power to protect her students, not just to keep them from the horrible fate that the Hellions suffered, but because she cared about all of them as if they were her own children. And like a mother lion, she would rear her fangs at anyone that dared threaten them, including her own family.

As Adrienne's screams escalated, Emma stepped into the elevator, already pushing Adrienne's memory from her mind. All that mattered now was that her students had one less threat to worry about, and she had one less enemy to protect her and her school against. Though she should have felt at least an iota of remorse, Emma instead found herself relieved and almost pleased that Adrienne would finally feel what it was like to be a victim.

The elevator descended steadily until it came to an abrupt halt, flinging Emma to the floor. The lights flickered slightly as she climbed to her feet, instinctively doing a quick mental self-examination to check for any injuries. _A slight bruise on my head, banged elbow, but nothing too serious,_ she assessed as she glanced up to figure out where the hell she had stopped. The digital readout spastically fluctuated between twelve and fourteen as the lights continued to flicker.

"Nightmare, is this your doing?" she challenged.

Nightmare darkly responded, his voice sounding from every direction at once, "Oh, sweet Emma. Leaving so soon, are you? I have many more sights to show you." The lights flickered then dimmed, as the digital readout began to speedily cycle through all the numbers possible in its two-digit readout.

Emma gave a bitter laugh. "So that's your game? You help me then turn against me? You should know that's a battle you can't win."

A hair-raising cackle echoed through the elevator shaft as Nightmare materialized in front of her. "Do you know what you've done? You had the fortune of witnessing the most probable series of events, but you decided to tamper with that. And now, the scales are tipped in my favor."

"Remind me to take your deductive reasoning course. It's absolutely fascinating how you can create such outlandish outcomes with a serious expression."

"Don't bluff, you know it's true."

"And what if it was?"

"The wall between our worlds is weakening because of Angora's interference. Your actions have only weakened that wall, which will allow me to get what I want—your students to defeat Angora."

She felt her patience shorten. "You won't use my students for your petty schemes, Nightmare. Leave them out of this."

"Oh, going back on your word?"

"No. This is between you and me."

"Wrong. Your students will give me the help I need. And you will be nothing more than a voice in my head when I sleep."

Without another word, Emma lashed out at Nightmare, with a quick psychic blow, meant to debilitate him temporarily. But his defenses were formidable, and the attack didn't penetrate at all. She attempted a high kick to his face. In any other circumstance, the kick would have been a staggering attack, but it passed right through her opponent's ethereal body.

Before she could attempt another attack, the room darkened, and Nightmare's body turned to shadow and engulfed a helpless Emma.

"Now, I will gain my realm back and then the rest of the world is mine for the taking. And I have you to thank, White Queen."

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional

Nightmare first visited Emma in Generation X #22, where he first explains the possibility of a woman attempting to take over Nightmare World

The images Nightmare shows her are from Generation X #50, #51, #53, #55, #56, and #68


	17. The Nightmare Begins

I.

"Like what a crazy day!" Jubilation Lee flopped on the couch as she threw her head back and let out an over-exaggerated sigh. Despite her nonchalant outward appearance, she still mulled over the fact that she nearly lost her life today at the hands of terrorists, just because she was a mutant.

Sitting up, she tried to remain upbeat. "I mean, Monet and me totally get like attacked by some whacko terrorist group. Paige and Rico somehow like find ghosts all through the school. Sean gets like shot, and Angelo and Ethan totally beat up the guys that did it. Everett finally takes a trip back home. Gaia's finally making friends with the new girls. Jono's like totally Jono. And Mike gets everythin' totally in line with his peeps. What else could happen?"

Sitting across from her, Monet rolled her eyes. "Isn't that the usually inauspicious, hindmost line of characters that underestimate the potential for an ill-fated future?"

It took a moment for Michael to decipher what was actually said. He frowned, thinking Monet's extensive vocabulary and willingness to use it at all times sometimes muddled her actual point. _She could have just said, fateful last words,_ he thought. To add to what Monet said, he stated, "This place is way too unpredictable to say something like that. Besides, we haven't heard from Ms. Frost yet. Anybody know when she's getting back?"

Paige pulled out the sleek cell phone Emma had given them just this morning. After a few button presses, she reported, "I just tracked her personal jet—it landed about fifteen minutes ago. She should be on the road, heading back here."

"All I'm sayin'," Jubilee readdressed her original statement, "is that like a lot of stuff happened today. Some good and some like not so good. An' I don't think anythin' else can happen. We can go to sleep in like total peace."

Strolling into the room, Rico announced, "I just talked to Ethan and Ange. They're gonna stay with Sean in the hospital, but they should be headed back later tonight. He lost a lot of blood, but they were able to patch him up pretty good. The wound itself wasn't too bad."

"That's good to hear," Michael responded. With Everett and Ethan gone, the two unofficial leaders of the team were gone, so he felt the weight of responsibility on him to ensure everything was taken care of until Sean and Emma returned. Being the leader of the team wasn't something he really had a burning desire to do, but his maturity and responsible nature made him a likely leader. But because of his desire to work more as support, he opted to be second-in-command to Ethan, when it was just the seven of them. With a team twice the size, he was sure his leadership role would diminish, but until that time came, he knew that the role had to be filled.

"Paige, I know a lot happened today. Will you still be able to run the diagnostics on the information we got from Dr. Cain's computer?" Michael asked.

"I've actually been running an encryption cracking program on it all week. The hard drive itself had several layers of encryptions, which were all different algorithms and patched code. I'm surprised it's taken this long with Cerebra, but whoever did it had to be beyond a genius."

Michael's brows furrowed as he recalled someone that would have been fully capable of creating a complex encryption code that would stump any computer, Casey Chamberlain, one of the members of another project underneath Dr. Adam Tedesco. Dr. Cain must have used the same encryption process he created, but if he was trying to keep information away from the Arminthorpe Corporation, he would have probably altered the encryption, making it even more foreign and complex than it already was.

Returning his attention to Paige, he asked, "When do you think it will be done?"

Again, she consulted her cell phone, smiling. "Looks like it just finished up. I'm okay after what happened earlier. I won't be able to sleep, so I can dig through it now."

Michael glanced toward Rico. "If it's not too much trouble, I'd appreciate it. The sooner we can figure out who's behind all this, the sooner we can find Dr. Cain. Rico, since you're familiar with the computer system and the program, can you help?"

"No prob," Rico responded as he followed Paige toward the computer room.

Lily leaned forward from her place on the couch. "But what about Mr. Cassidy? Shouldn't we go see him?"

"I'm sure Angelo and Ethan will fill us in on the gory details when they get back. Since they're going to release him later on tonight, there's no sense in us going out to the hospital. A lot happened today, I think it would be best if we just waited for everyone to come back."

"So, we saw Graylon Walsh this afternoon at the park," Vanessa announced.

"Oh, mega-ick!" Jubilee said as she scrunched her face. "That like snooty reporter that keeps on throwin' us under tha bus?"

Vanessa nodded. "Same one. But there's something weird about him—"

"You don't say?" Jubilee sarcastically asked.

"He says that we're on the same side, but our motivations are different."

Michael remembered that originally, Graylon was looking for him but ran into Ethan instead. Aloud, he said, "He was on Dr. Cain's answering machine. I think he knows more than he's letting on."

"We thought so too. And that's why I asked him to find out information on Mina Laroché. I figured he would have the resources to uncover why she was at Dr. Cain's house and who she may be working for. If he's serious about helping us, he'll come back with some information."

"Good idea. We can't keep him too close though, he's still a reporter."

Monet nodded in agreement. "I have to agree with Michael's deduction. We cannot risk anymore negative overexposure, especially since we just received the high marks from the school board."

_Monet agreed with me?!_ Michael thought. The day was getting better and better. Not only did everything go smoothly at the security office today, but Monet was actually being nice. _Oh no, hell must be freezing over as we speak,_ he cynically thought.

"Let's see what Graylon turns up then," Michael said. Meanwhile, it sounds like everyone had quite a day. I'm all up for getting some rest."

"Dude, ya like get no argument from me," Jubilee responded, already ascending the stairs as she stretched tiredly.

Nods of agreement followed then the teens quietly dispersed for the evening, not knowing that the rest and relaxation that they yearned for would only be a fleeting dream.

II.

Tom Corsi stepped into Icy Delight, the tinkling of bells sounding as the door closed behind him. Despite the time of day, the ice cream parlor was empty and much too quiet, which only added to Tom's concern. "Olivia!" he called.

"Tom!" she smiled broadly as she emerged from the back. "Sorry, Alyssa stepped out for a second, and I'm unpacking inventory, so she closed the shop for a few minutes. She must've forgotten to lock the door. But it's always a pleasure to see you. Coming to get another round of ice cream for your students? You know, they were quite lively earlier, and I suspect they strong-armed you into stopping by to grab them a few more milkshakes, eh?"

Tom forced a smile, his mind still pondering over the concerned phone call Lily made earlier in the day. "Olivia, do you have a minute?"

"Sure. But why do you look so serious?"

"Listen, I got a call earlier from Lily, who said that she had a strange exchange with Alyssa. Lily said that Alyssa mentioned some kind of danger and Alyssa's aunt. I didn't press her for details, but she seemed pretty shaken. Do you have any idea what Alyssa would have been talking about?"

Olivia averted her eyes as her friendly expression turned grave. "Yes. I know exactly what Alyssa said. It was the same thing I wanted to talk to you about the other day when you came in with your students."

"What's going on? And how does it involve Lily?"

"I should start from the beginning. My sister, Anne; her husband, Jean-Luc; and her daughter, Camille went on a trip across Europe about a year ago. Anne called everyday, updating me on the new places they had seen and the adventures they had. Between countries, they of course took the train. During one of those trips, two madman boarded the train, and somehow during their reckless gunfight, the train derailed, and some of the cars fell into the river below. Apparently, Anne was at the front of the train in one of the cars that managed to stay on the tracks. Afterward, my sister told me that the last thing my sister said to Camille, her daughter, was 'sweet dreams.'"

"I'm sorry. I didn't know. But where is Anne now?"

"The doctors presume she's in a coma."

Catching the hint of disbelief in Olivia's voice, Tom asked, "You don't believe it?"

"What I didn't tell you is that my sister is a mutant, just like many of your students. Since we were children, she'd been able to exist in dreams. It's hard to explain, but at night, she could visit me in my sleep with something like a full awareness of herself. And she could manipulate the entire dream to whatever she wanted. So growing up, I never had a single nightmare while she was there."

"That's a unique ability to have. But what does that have to do with her hospitalization?"

"After the accident, Anne slipped into a deep depression, refusing to eat or go outside. I visited her everyday. One day, when I went to her house, I found her sleep. But when I tried to wake her up, she was unresponsive, so I called an ambulance. When we got to the hospital, the doctors said that her vital signs were barely registering, but her mental activity was way above anything they had ever seen. They didn't know how to explain it, but I knew. She was so devastated by Jean-Luc's and Camille's death that she simply chose to immerse herself in a dream world where they were alive again."

Tom shook his head regretfully. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"The hospital is taking good care of her, but I don't know what else I can do for her. The other part that I'm concerned about is your student, Lily. I mentioned it before, but I don't think I articulated it well. Lily looks _exactly_ like my sister's daughter. Somehow, I think that Anne has gained knowledge about her and thinks her daughter is alive again. I don't know what she's capable of, but I'm afraid that she's going to do something terrible."

"Dreams can't hurt anyone."

Olivia wrung her hands nervously. "Since her hospitalization, the staff and patients have been complaining about nightmares and seeing a man and young girl die on a train. I think that somehow, her powers are growing, and she's inflicting her pain on others."

"I've seen research that claims that people have died from nightmares, but I don't think—"

"Last week, one of the doctors treating her mysteriously died in his apartment. He was alone, and his apartment was locked from the inside. From what they can tell, he was sleep when he died. But his body had been beaten and bruised as if he had been physically attacked."

"So you think that Anne is responsible?"

"My daughter and I didn't sleep last night. We've been having nightmares too. And I'm afraid the next time we fall asleep, we won't wake back up. I don't know what my sister's mental state is Tom, but I'm afraid. For us. For your student, Lily. And frankly, for anyone that sleeps. I don't know what my sister is capable of. You've got to help my sister before she does something that she'll regret. She's not a bad person. She's just…" Olivia trailed off as she wiped the back of her hand across her eyes.

"Don't worry," Tom placed a strong, reassuring hand on her thin hand. "We'll keep Lily safe and figure out a way to help your sister. I know some powerful psychics that may be able to get through to your sister before it's too late."

"Thank you. I've already lost my husband, brother-in-law, and niece. I couldn't bear to lose my sister too."

With a final squeeze to Olivia's hand, Tom took his leave, stepping out into a crisp breeze. Glancing upward, he noted the black clouds rolling in, covering the ominously darkening sky. He hoped that he wasn't too late, but his gut told him that the gears had already begun to turn. And if that was indeed the case, then he was way too late to save Lily and Anne.

VI.

Lily Madison meant to only lie down for a moment and rest her eyes, but she quickly found herself slipping into an uneasy rest, suddenly plagued by visions of monsters and other flashes of hideous horrors. Snapping out of the nap and gasping, she clutched her chest as her breath came in tattered rasps.

_Something's…wrong. There's something else here…something…evil._

She wasn't exactly sure how she knew, but the feeling of unease continued to grow. she knew that her notion was more than a whimsical feeling—something evil had infiltrated the school. Yet, there were no security alarms or panicked yelling, which probably meant no one else was aware.

She glanced about her darkened room instinctively, checking for any obvious disturbances or forced entry. But the window was still in tact and tightly closed. The door remained shut. Her closet appeared to be untouched, the sweater that had fallen earlier still sitting in front of it unmoved. Everything _seemed_ fine. But…

Lily tried to shake off her trepidation. Since the strange conversation with Alyssa, she felt edgy and jumpy. Surely, this was just a result of her own overactive imagination. Or was it?

_Maybe a drink of water will help,_ she assured herself as her bare legs dangled off the side of the bed. She thought of turning on the lamp, but then saw that the moonlight streaming through her window provided enough for her to make her way to the hallway.

But as her foot gently touched the floor, something grabbed her ankle and yanked downward. Barely able to scream, she was thrown to the floor, the wind knocked out of her. Alarmed, she weakly struggled, trying to pull herself away while casting a quick glance backwards to see her attacker. But the dark appendages were amorphous, seeming to change shape every moment, never becoming a definite shape. She cried out, but it came out as nothing more than a hushed cry as one final yank sucked her into the black void underneath her bed.

The door to Lily's room creaked open, and Emma gazed around the room, searching for the occupant. But whoever was supposed to be here wasn't. She frowned, knowing that someone else was making their move, having targeted the students as well. Deep inside, the reason why became obvious, but the concern was fleeting, as the realization became apparent that Nightmare's nemesis's affections would ultimately be her own undoing.

Turning from the room, she continued down the hallway, reluctantly pressing ahead with the intention of taking down her own students.

V.

Standing in the bathroom, Jubilee carefully changed the dressing on her arm, finally seeing the wound for herself. _Monet was right, it wasn't that bad,_ she thought as she began to rewrap it. _Ugh! Did I just say Monet was right?!_ She chuckled to herself as she secured the dressing, slipped out of her clothes, showered, and threw on a long t-shirt and boy shorts.

Padding across the room, she flipped on her stereo, and a fast-paced song, heavy on the guitar and vocals filled the space. Though the music should have distracted her, she kept going back to the subway, and the sound of the gunshot continued to echo in her ears, repeating like a broken record.

_C'mon, Jubes. Get it together!_

She had been in worse situations before, like when Bastion kidnapped her, or battling the Brood, Omega Red, and the Hand. But something just seemed different, more real than anything else. In those battles, the mortal danger was there, powers versus powers, but this attack was powers versus a gun. And Jubilee knew she was good, but nothing in her arsenal could stop a bullet.

Settling at her desk, she pulled her calculus book off the shelf, and attempted to distract herself by doing some pre-reading before class started on Monday. Though she dreaded the class and didn't want to listen to dorky Bobby Drake carry on as their teacher, she perused the material, attempting to decipher the rhyme and reason of the lengthy word problems, abstract formulas, and multitude of complicated terms. But after a few minutes, she found herself with less understanding of calculus than when she first opened the book, so she closed it and leaned back in her chair, stretching.

_I've gotta figure out how to like be more than just a firecracker,_ Jubilee resolved. Of all the students, she used her powers in the least destructive manner possible, but had been recently experimenting with new uses for her powers, such as channeling her powers through the ground when she fought Vincent. But the fear of an irreversible, destructive result always weighed heavily on her mind, which always held her back.

A knock at the door snapped her out of her thoughts. "Like come in, unless yer Monet." The door opened and closed, but when no one said anything, she impatiently spun in her seat to face the quiet visitor. "Like, say somethin'—" she snapped but stopped short, seeing Emma standing in the doorway.

"Oh, Frosty," Jubilee nonchalantly said, waiting for Emma to correct her. "Is the music like too loud? Ya know, you've gotta totally chill out a little." She reached for the remote and turned the volume down a few notches. "You're like awfully quiet. What's up?"

"You look tired, Jubilation," Emma dreamily said.

"Ya know, I don't like think that's a compliment. You, Gaia, an' Monet have gotta like work on yer like interpersonal skills or somethin'," Jubilee said as she took a glance in the mirror, hoping that she didn't have obvious bags under her eyes. But she looked normal, but when her eyes fell on Emma's reflection, she gasped as another barely visible image hulked over Emma's.

She didn't immediately recognize the entity, but instinct told her that he/she/it was one of the bad guys. Chalk white skin, disheveled green hair, glowing red eyes—definitely not the look of a good guy. She spun to face Emma again, suddenly seeing her in a different light. For the first time, Jubilee noticed the evil etched into her face, shadows mysteriously sharpening her features.

"Like who the hell are you?" Jubilee's voice had a panicked edge to it as she stood, already plotting out several different methods of escape.

Emma's mouth turned up in a wicked grin. "Don't you recognize your worst nightmare when you see it?"

Jubilee heard another voice overlaid on Emma's, and it only confirmed that the person standing in front of her wasn't Emma Frost. She reared back, ready to bombard the fake Emma with a barrage of fireworks, but her opponent was unexpectedly, inhumanly quick, grabbing her hands before she could do anything. In the next second, the back of Emma's hand connected to Jubilee's jaw with a sickening _crack_, and she hit the floor, unconscious.

Emma loomed over Jubilee for a moment as somewhere deep in her mind, a miniscule voice howled in protest. Ignoring it, she turned and moved down the hallway, ready for her next victim to fall.

VI.

Jono stared his bathroom mirror, once again studying the jagged edge that separated his face from the fiery, glowing inferno of biokinetic energy that replaced the rest of his face, neck, and chest. He reflected on the whole reason why he agreed to come to the school—to learn to control his powers and possibly appear normal again. But so far, neither one had happened.

If anything, everything had gotten worse since he had arrived at the school. Between his distance from Paige and his own self-pity, he was not enjoying his time here at the school. But really, there wasn't anywhere else he could go. In the streets, people looked at him like a freak. He couldn't go home, not after what happened to Gayle Edgerton and his parents' reaction. Xavier's was the only place he could possibly fit in, but he wasn't having much luck with that in the least.

Distracted for a moment, he was stunned to find the person staring back at him lacking the swirling energies in his chest. Suddenly, he stared staring at a whole version of himself as he would probably look today—a strong jawline, thin lips, a visible neck and muscular chest. He glanced down, the reflection mimicking his movements as it should, but only saw the glowing inferno swirling where his chest should have been. Yet, when he looked back in the mirror, he was normal again.

Jono waved his hand, and the reflection did the exact same thing. Growing more baffled by the second, he slowly reached his hand toward the mirror and touched it. The cold glass was solid, as it should have been, and his reflection was doing the same on the other side of the mirror. As he stared back at his complete face, the reflection smiled evilly.

Jono pulled back, but was caught by a pale hand, which clamped onto his wrist. It was then he saw that his reflection had changed to a sickly white with glowing red eyes. Sill smiling, it was moving independently, having reached through the mirror, and began to pull him in.

He instinctively pulled back, using the counter as leverage with his other hand, but the reflection was much, much stronger as it gave one final yank, snatching Jono off of his feet and into the mirror, leaving behind no trace of the abduction.

VII.

Unaware of her teammate's peril, Vanessa continued to ponder over the situation with the Arminthorpe Corporation. Earlier, she had told Ethan that she was okay with waiting until they found something, but as the day wore on, she found herself returning to the fact that they hadn't found anything up to this point. And the longer they waited, the more danger Dr. Cain could potentially be in.

Vanessa pulled out her cell phone with the intention of calling her father. Most of the others didn't know, but her father worked at the Arminthorpe Corporation as well. Though he worked in the financial department, maybe there was something he could uncover to at least give them a direction to go in.

But then again, if she told him the truth, he would only get worried. Then her mother would worry. Plus, what if someone discovered her father snooping around? If the Arminthorpe Corporation was as dangerous as they were presuming, she didn't even want to think of what they would do.

Slipping her phone back in her pocket, she sighed heavily. _Maybe we'll figure it all out in the morning,_ she said to herself. A knock at the door startled her out of her thoughts.

"Come in," Vanessa called. The door opened a crack and Emma poked her head in. "Ms. Frost. How was Boston?"

Emma entered the room, closing the door quietly behind her. "It was quite eventful," she answered with a hint of something more behind her smile.

Vanessa felt that something was off, but she couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. _Maybe I'm just tired,_ she told herself.

"So maybe you should get some sleep," Emma lips curled upward.

_Did she read my mind?_

Suddenly, Vanessa felt uncomfortable. "Well, maybe I'll do that. Did you want to talk to me about something? If not, I guess I'll see you in the morning!" she tried to sound as polite as possible, but really just wanted Emma out of her room. It wasn't that Emma was making her feel tense like earlier in the morning. There was something downright creepy about her.

"I just wanted to make sure you went to sleep," Emma said, her voice heavy and strange.

"Umm, I think you should leave," Vanessa stood and crossed the room, brushing by Emma.

"Not until you're sleep!" Emma shouted as she grabbed Vanessa by her t-shirt. Whipping her around with super-human strength, Emma threw Vanessa across the room. The girl had no time to react as she slammed against the wall and fell unconscious, hitting the floor heavily.

"And then there were seven," Emma smiled sadistically.

VIII.

_Is the way I talk really that out of place?_ Gaia asked herself as she pulled her vibrant pink hair into a high pony tail. Maybe the other girls had a point about her speech pattern, but still, it was distinctive and she had come to like her manner of speaking. It gave her a sense of uniqueness amongst the students.

Besides, if Monet could talk strangely and it be acceptable, there was no reason why she couldn't. Gaia decided that she would keep researching her Grecian brethren on the information cube and continue to learn and apply what she gathered.

Taking one last look in the mirror, she stretched and yawned before climbing into her bed. Snuggling down underneath the covers, she suddenly found that her mattress felt horribly different than normal. Lumpy. Hard. And moving.

Gaia gasped but before she could leap out of the bed, a graying, decayed hand tore through the mattress and grabbed her arm. She screamed and struggled against the hand's grip, but it was just too strong. Focusing, she tore it away forcefully with a focused telekinetic attack. But another one erupted from the mattress, grabbing her ankle.

"No!" she howled. "Unhand me!"

More hands tore through, grabbing her in their icy grip. Then Gaia found that she was being dragged into a thick darkness. "No!" she managed to scream before the black washed over her, taking her cries with her.

IX.

"Ten!" Vincent Sellenger grunted as the barbell clanged nosily against the bench. Resting for just a moment, he sat up from his last set of bench press, his chest heaving and muscles screaming for relief. He concentrated on breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, fighting the urge to take huge gulps of breath.

He wiped the back of his gloved hand across his forehead. Then he caught a glimpse of a figure lingering in the doorway. Squinting, he made out the form of Emma as she sashayed into the light. "Ms. Frost," Vincent clarified, watching her as she walked toward him. He suddenly found himself noticing Emma's seductive walk and her womanly curves. Vincent's face grew hot as he tore his eyes away.

"Vincent," Emma cooed. "It's awfully late—shouldn't you be sleep?"

Without looking at her, his face still burning, he replied, "I'm not a child. I needed to workout. Besides, what do you care?"

Emma circled Vincent, her hand lighting grazing his shoulders. "A strong young man such as you needs plenty of rest to allow your muscles to recuperate from your intense workouts."

Vincent felt a knot in his throat, making it hard for him to swallow. "I—I couldn't sleep," he mumbled, surprised at how dry his mouth was.

"Maybe I can fix that," Emma said as she leaned in toward Vincent, her lips inches from his. A lascivious look glazed over her eyes, and for a moment, he was frozen. He could feel his heart pounding out of his chest as something in his mind told him that something was horribly wrong.

When Emma blinked, her icy blue eyes transformed into to scarlet glowing orbs. Vincent reeled but Emma's hand caught his head and she pulled him in, locking her mouth to his. his muffled cry escalated as the contact ignited a searing fire within his body, and for a moment, he could swear that his insides were burning. He struggled only for a moment, before he went limp in her grasp.

Letting him fall to the floor, she pulled back, smiling down at her fallen student. "Sleep well."

X.

Kiana Asahara couldn't believe that a week had passed by already. Now here she was, at the end of the strict deadline her mother had given her to stay at the school. But had her mother really expected her to find anything in such a short time? Realistically, the situation was complicated at the very least and would take a bit of time and investigation to figure anything out.

Maybe that's what her mother was counting on.

_Don't think like that. She's just concerned._

Kiana sometimes had to remind herself that her mother's intentions were good, though sometimes they came off as smothering and over-sheltering. She thought that she had proved time and time again that she was responsible, prudent, and trustworthy. But her mother still treated her like a fragile doll. It actually surprising that her mother had let her come out this long.

She picked up her phone. _If I don't make a stand now, mother will keep on treating me like a child,_ she tightened her jaw with resolve and dialed her mother's number. She waited patiently as the phone rang once. Already, her resolve was starting to slip as the second ring sounded. Then the other end picked up.

"This is the Asahara residence," Natsuko Asahara's pleasant voice greeted.

Though her mother's voice should have been reassuring, Kiana felt her bravado drain quickly, and she almost regretted calling. "Mom. Uhh…sorry for calling so late."

"It's only five in the afternoon. Not quite late, but I'm sure you've been busy, so it must feel like it's midnight."

Kiana glanced at the clock and saw that it was indeed only five o'clock. Suddenly, she wondered how or why all of them got the notion that they needed to go to bed. There wasn't any reason that they should be going to sleep on a Saturday at five in the afternoon. A knot formed in her stomach as she realized that something was going on right under their noses.

Not wanting to alarm her mother, Kiana laughed it off. "Ha! You're right. We've been very busy."

"You sound like you're in good spirits, Kiana. Have you found out anything more about Dr. Cain?"

Kiana didn't want to end the call abruptly, though she wanted to find someone else to make sure she wasn't going crazy. She quickly answered, "Regretfully, no. We're analyzing some information we found, but I don't know whether it's going to lead us anywhere."

"Well, are you at least enjoying the school?"

"I think so," Kiana said as she peeked out of her door. The hallway was ominously quiet and still. "I'm making friends here, so that's a start."

"I know your heart. And I know that you want to stay at the school for a while longer, right?"

_Yeah, if some bad guy hasn't broken in and taken over the school,_ Kiana said to herself. To her mother, she replied, "I know you only said for a week, but we're going to need more time than that. At least through the first semester. Besides, you know that Xavier's is a pretty good school. Almost guaranteed admittance into any school I want, if I do well here."

"I just don't want you putting yourself in danger."

Down the hallway, she spotted Emma staring back at her. Shutting the door quickly, Kiana said, "Mom, I'll be fine. There's nothing here to worry about. Anyways, I think one of the teachers is meeting with us real quick. I'll call you back later."

"Take care. And stay out of trouble."

"I'll do my best," Kiana ended the call and spun around to find Emma standing inside of her room, several feet away. Focusing her mystical ability, Kiana's eyes glowed as her perception changed to allow her to see traces of otherworldly influence. And Kiana gasped as she saw the image of a pale, gangly man superimposed over Emma's physical body.

"You're not Ms. Frost," Kiana said as she readied herself to react if Emma attacked. "Who are you, and why are you attacking us?"

Emma and the man shook their head simultaneously. When Emma spoke, another gravelly voice spoke at the same time. "Now isn't the time for questions. It's way past your bedtime, isn't it?"

Kiana felt a little hazy, but quickly shook it off. "I'm warning you. I won't hesitate to defend myself. What have you done with everyone else?"

Emma shook her head as if warning Kiana. "Your friends were much more cooperative. And they're sleeping peacefully, feeding my power. And now, it's your turn," Emma advanced on Kiana.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Frost," Kiana regretfully apologized as she rebounded off the wall behind her with a picture-perfect flying side kick, with enough force behind it to take down a man twice her size. But despite Kiana's quick launch, Emma sidestepped the maneuver easily. Landing on the opposite side of Emma, she quickly shifted her weight and spun gracefully with another side kick. This time, Emma caught her foot and whipped her around, flinging her to the floor with superhuman strength.

Kiana cried out as she hit the floor awkwardly, nearly rendering her unconscious. Lying on her back, she raised up on her elbows, struggling against the pain ebbing throughout her body. But Emma was upon her once again, pressing a boot into the middle of her chest, pinning her to the floor.

"Let me up!" Kiana weakly demanded as she tried to struggle against Emma, who only smirked in response. Dark shadows splayed over Emma's face, giving her otherwise fair features a dark, sinister look. Emma pressed down harder, as Kiana grunted in pain.

"Good night," Emma offered as her eyes glowed a deep crimson.

Kiana felt her eyes grow heavy and her mind drift. Her struggling limbs grew heavy, falling to the floor uselessly as her eyelids closed slowly. She blinked one last time, then her eyes closed as her body completely relaxed.

"One more down. Emma, you should've trained your students better. This is much easier than I thought."

Deep within Nightmare's mind, Emma screamed in horror.

XI.

Monet scanned the sky outside her window, noticing the odd weather rolling in. "What peculiar weather for this time of year," she observed. But then, her acute hearing caught the sound of a muffled cry and the sound of a body hitting the floor. "Mon dieu!" she exclaimed, truly taken by surprise.

Focusing her psychic powers, she scanned the mansion, hoping to discern that the noise was simply an aftereffect of another prank between Angelo and Jubilee. But that wasn't what she found. Instead, she caught the slightest notion of another presence within the school. Monet locked onto the foreign thought pattern and tried to delve deeper into it, but almost immediately, the entity detected her.

It was as if the power had been abruptly shut off. Monet blinked, realizing that the entity had somehow blocked her out, a feat that was difficult to do, considering her powerful psychic ability. And there were only two other people in the mansion that surpassed her. Michael Lawson. And Emma Frost.

Concentrating, Monet focused, overriding the psychic block to contact Michael. Finding him psychically was relatively easy normally, but having to muddle through a strong psychic block took an immense amount of concentration.

_"Michael,"_ Monet abruptly entered his thoughts. _"I'm sure there's an intruder in the school, but I cannot discern anything about who it is. Besides that, it's erected some kind of psychic block, preventing me from contacting any of the other students or probing deeper into the intruder's mind."_

_"I thought I felt something strange. I can't contact anyone else but you. So, the only thing I can think is that something's happened to Ms. Frost, or she's being controlled."_

_ "Which is most disconcerting. Maybe we should—"_ Monet didn't finish her thought as a painful white flash erupted behind her eyes. _Psychic backlash,_ Monet figured as she collapsed to one knee, barely able to draw breath. Clutching her chest as she heaved heavily, she found the strength to stand, but the room spun.

_What's happening?!_

But as Monet tried to take a step forward, her equilibrium was completely in flux, and instead, Monet stumbled—or was thrown—backwards. She helplessly flailed as her body sailed toward the window. Expecting the crash of glass around her, she was disappointed for only a second as she hit the window and it didn't break. Instead, she found herself falling through darkness. Then everything was silent.

XII.

Michael felt the connection between him and Monet break as a wave of feedback crippled him. Luckily, he had somewhat of a psychic shield and a telekinetic shield raised, otherwise, he was sure his body would have been nothing more than a scrambled mess on the floor. Dizzied, he used the dresser to help him to his feet, still trying to figure out what had just happened.

_"Monet?"_ he telepathically called to his cousin, but it was like he was shouting in a closed, tiny room. Never before had his telepathic powers been constrained, and he suddenly felt like he was totally isolated and alone.

"Monet! Vanessa! Rico!" his voice was weak as he staggered toward the door and out into the hallway. From the corner of his eye, he saw Emma walking briskly toward him, a look of pure evil etched in her face.

Still disoriented, he couldn't focus enough to protect himself telekinetically and before he could even tell his body to react offensively, Emma was upon him. She grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the doorframe. Michael's head cracked against the wood and a flash of red erupted behind his eyes.

Struggling against the darkness seeping in from the corners of his eyes, he managed a wild telekinetic attack that threw Emma against the opposite wall as he fell to one knee, still fighting unconsciousness.

"Ms. Frost, what's wrong with you?" Michael managed to ask through struggling breaths. He thought that his attack would have at least brought Emma to her senses, but instead, it only seemed to infuriate her as she rose to her feet and practically leaped towards him. Grabbing him by the back of the shirt, Emma flung him to the floor. But instead of hitting something solid, Michael felt as though he had landed in a large pool of a thick, oozing substance that immediately began to pull him down.

Thrashing helplessly, he panicked, and, unable to concentrate, rapidly sunk into the floor. Before he was totally submerged, he managed a pleading glance toward Emma, who simply stood above him, a triumphant smirk on her face.

Then everything went dark.

XIII.

Rico Vidal and Paige Guthrie grabbed a snack before heading downstairs to the room that housed Cerebra. Taking a seat at the large console, they both stared at the information streaming across the screens.

"Okay, so let's make sure that we don't set off the ultimate, world is ending, security alarm, Paige," Rico half-jokingly, half-seriously suggested.

Paige nodded as she began to input commands from the keyboard. "Yeah. I'd hate to trap everyone in here and end up stumbling on more mysteries." She straightened herself in her chair as she began to scroll through the information on the screen. She said, "According to this, their headquarters isn't far from here. Probably thirty miles or so."

Rico stopped reading his own screen and turned to Paige with a perplexed look on his face. "It's weird, but I feel like I should have known that. Now that I think about it, I couldn't tell you anything about the building or how to get there. It's like, when I try to think about it, everything suddenly gets kind of hazy. Weird."

Frowning, Paige said, "That's not a good sign. My first guess would be that someone may have messed with your memories."

Rico shuddered at the thought of someone unknowingly traipsing about in his head, just picking and choosing thoughts and memories to simply erase. Refusing to believe that someone had skillfully done such a thing, he asked, "But how? When? Besides, I can clearly remember us being there and things that we did. Why wouldn't they have just erased my entire memory of being there?"

Paige crossed her arms as she thought for a moment. "The whole mind thing isn't exactly my area of expertise, but I know it's a tricky, delicate process. I've heard Ms. Frost can erase a single memory without affecting anything else surrounding that memory. So in essence, you could remember coming into this room, but you have no memory of using Cerebra. Maybe they didn't want you going back to the building or leading anyone else there."

"I don't like the sound of that. I wonder if anyone else can remember where this place is?"

"Luckily, you don't have to. Cerebra's already provided GPS coordinates and multiple routes to get there. But maybe you can talk to Ms. Frost or maybe Ms. Summers…they could maybe see if the person that did it left some kind of psychic imprint. If someone was good enough to erase a single memory, then it's going to take someone better to restore it."

Rico wasn't keen on the idea of letting more people rummage around in his head, but at least they were trusted allies. Returning to his screen, he ran across something that caught his eye. "Hey, check this out. I found something about a project called Project Genesis."

"Does it say anything?"

"Hold on, I'm looking through it now," Rico responded as his eyes scanned the seemingly endless paragraphs of information. While most of it didn't make sense, he froze when he came to the list of participants. "This says that all of us were a part of this project," he quietly informed.

"Since they're involved in genetic research, do you think that they were doing work with mutants?"

"It must be, but I can't remember anything about it. Damn!" Rico slammed his fist against the console. "Those people…they were doing something with us—something that they didn't want us to know or remember. Which tells me that it may not be good."

Paige wished that she could say something to make him feel better. She couldn't imagine suddenly realizing that her own memories had been tampered with in an effort to cover up something that could be illegal or worse.

Rico continued to read. "All of our names are listed here along with Dr. Cain's. But there's another name here—Damien Sarantenos. Surprisingly," Rico sarcastically emphasized the word, "I can't remember anything about this guy. I don't even recognize the name." He shifted in his seat and looked her straight in the eyes. "If you guys want to help us, then we've got to go to this place. It's the only way we're going to get answers."

Paige shook her head. "Rico, that may be a bad idea. If Dr. Cain wanted to keep you away from the Arminthorpe Corporation, it wouldn't make sense to walk right to their front door."

"If they wanted us that bad, they would've come after us by now. So they're simply waiting for the right time. If we show up on their doorstep, we can catch them off guard."

"We can't go charging head first into that place. There's no telling what defenses they have there. Maybe you all weren't the only mutants they experimented with. But unlike you, they're all still there. And maybe they're waiting for you to come back."

"Then we won't disappoint them."

She knew that Rico was upset, so he wasn't thinking straight. But maybe he had a point. If they could sneak into the Corporation now, while they thought the students were simply hiding out, the students had the advantage of surprise."

Before Paige could comment, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Startled, she spun and found Emma lingering in the doorway.

"Do you two ever sleep?" Emma asked.

Rico smiled as he spun around. "Nah. A few cups of coffee and some doughnuts…we'll be good for another forty-eight hours."

Answering seriously, Paige said, "Cerebra finished breaking the code on the hard drive we got from Dr. Cain's house. We found some disturbing information. Maybe you should—"

Emma raised a silencing hand. "Now, now, children. I'm sure this will all be here tomorrow. Why don't you two take it in?"

Surprised at Emma's reaction, Paige replied, "Ms. Frost, I don't think you understand. We found that the Corporation did something—" a flashing light on the console caught her eye. Turning around, she found that the light signaled an alarm of some type, and she quickly typed in a command to activate the report.

A robotic female voice announced, "Alert. Lillian Madison, Michael Lawson, Jono Starsmore, Gaia Sophronia, and Monet St. Croix are no longer on school grounds. Last known location, second floor dorm rooms. Vitality report shows Jubilation Lee, Vanessa Wallace, Vincent Sellenger, and Kiana Asahara as unconscious."

Paige felt her breath catch as she exchanged a panicked glance with Rico. "Sweep grounds for foreign biological, psychic, or alien signatures."

"Foreign presence detected."

"Location?" Paige impatiently requested.

"Main computer room."

"But aren't we in the main computer room?" Rico asked.

Paige's blood ran cold as she stood slowly, turning toward Emma. "What's going on?"

"Don't fret, child. They needed the rest."

Paige froze, a knot of dread forming in her stomach as she remembered the time when Emma flew them to Canada, ultimately for their own safety, but effortlessly defeated each one of them in mere moments. Remembering the lesson from that time, she knew that Emma could easily manipulate her husking ability and Rico's wind manipulation, since both abilities had to be triggered mentally. Right now, Emma had the upper hand, and unless she thought of something fast, they would end up in the same boat as their teammates.

But there was something different about this time. The Emma that now stood before them wasn't the Emma Frost they knew. Something was horribly wrong.

Paige made eye contact with Rico, giving him a hardly noticeable eye gesture toward Emma.

As if he understood, Rico stood and took an aggressive step towards Emma. His accusatory tone bellowed through the room as he shouted, "You—you did something to them. Why? Where are my friends? What did you do to them?"

While Rico confronted Emma, Paige commanded, "Cerebra, record main computer room. Analyze at a micro-level. Forward results to Sean, Angelo, and Ethan." Quietly and in one breath, she spilled out the commands, hoping that the computer responded accordingly. Spinning around, she stepped up next to Rico, pointing an accusing finger at a smirking Emma. "Answer the question, or so help me."

"Nothing like what I'm going to do to you," Emma answered as the light around her bent and a bolt resembling lightning emanated from her psyche, streaked through the air, and tore through Paige and Rico at the speed of a thought. The psi-bolt, though a mental attack, forcefully hurled them backwards on impact, as their senses were overloaded and their minds shut down in response.

Their brief, pain-ridden cry amused Emma as she watched them helplessly collapse. "Sweet nightmares, children. Now, time for the main event, Anne Devereaux." Momentarily returned to her senses, she cried out as she too collapsed, immersed in the endless nightmare of watching her students fall by her hand.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional


	18. Nightmare World

I.

"By the gods, awaken!"

The urgent command pulled Michael Lawson from the dark unconsciousness, making him painfully aware of his aching body. Before he opened his eyes, he touched the back of his head, retracting his hand after he felt a tender sting of a bruise. As he stirred to life, he opened his dark brown eyes to find his alarmed teammate, Gaia Sophronia, hovering over him.

He clinched his eyes closed, erasing the hazy, unfocused picture, and when he opened them again, the environment came into view—the rocky hills in the background, the unnatural gray-purple sky, and the large expanse of dry land they were in the middle of.

His head throbbed, and he had trouble discerning any facts about how he got here or why, except his body's unwillingness to cooperate. Taking a pain-ridden breath, he sat up much too quickly, and a wave of nausea overtook him. For a moment, he swore that whatever was on his stomach wouldn't be there for long. But he choked back the sickening lurch and managed a deep breath, but the air was thick with a rotten odor that made him gag again.

Recovering his composure, Michael saw Monet St. Croix standing several feet away, watching him, and next to her, Jono Starsmore searched the distant horizon. But the glaring fact that caught his attention was that Jono's chest wasn't a swirling mass of energy. Instead, he now had a normal chest, neck and lower face as if it had always been there.

Confused and dizzied, Michael clambered to his feet, desperately trying to erase the haze over his mind. Everything had happened so fast, but what—_Emma!_ The last thing he remembered was that his teacher had mercilessly attacked him, and he had sunk into the floor. But the last part didn't make sense. How the hell did he sink through a solid floor?

"Where—where are we? What the hell's going on?" he groggily asked.

_"Don't ask too many questions. We still 'aven't figured it out ourselves,"_ Jono answered, his mouth moving in time with his words. He pointed to his face, _"Can't say I've quite figured this out either."_ Though he now had a lower face and chest, it seemed that it was only superficial since his voice was still psychically projected.

"Is it permanent?" Michael risked asking.

Jono shook his head, touching his face. _"I can't say fer sure. It feels real an' solid, but if it's not permanent, I'd rather not think about it right now."_

Michael respected his wishes and didn't ask any more questions. He blinked a few times then glanced around, taking note of everyone else's absence. "Where's everybody? Why are we in our training uniforms? And why are all the psychic students here?"

Monet flipped her long, dark hair. "An astute observation, which I noticed earlier. But again, there is no immediate explanation for our presence here or our apparel."

Annoyed, Michael hated having more questions than answers, which seemed to be the story of his entire last week. Not only did he have the mystery of the Arminthorpe Corporation looming, which left many unanswered questions, but now they had been kidnapped and dropped in the middle of nowhere without any cause or explanation.

Sensing her cousin's frustration, she offered, "The uniforms may have simply been a courtesy of our host. Considering the manner in which we were abducted and the very nature of this realm, I would say that we are in some sort of dreamscape."

Michael paused. "Is—is this a dream? You're saying we're in a dream?"

"More like a nightmare," a raspy voice echoed from everywhere yet nowhere.

Michael glanced upwards, sensing a new presence approaching them. A figure rode atop an ebony steed, which he likened to Black Beauty, except horns jutted from above its crimson eyes, exhaled puffs of flame, and somehow galloped on thin air as if it were solid ground.

As the rider grew closer, details became more distinguishable. An emaciated, pale man, who appeared disheveled and wild maneuvered the reigns of his horse.

Pulling up next to them, the horse reared back, letting out a gravelly neigh before settling back on the ground. The rider looked them over from his high place, as if he were inspecting them with disgusting regard.

Gaia stepped forward, pointing an accusing finger at the rider. "Introduce yourself, o dark creature, or we shall smite thee!"

_O dark creature? Smite?_ Michael made a mental note to talk to Gaia about her peculiar dialect, though he had to commend her for trying to sound intimidating.

Snickering, the pale man kept a grin plastered across his face, as if he were always laughing at some joke only he knew. "Welcome to my world, kiddies. I don't think we've been formally introduced."

Monet folded her arms, as her eyes narrowed with disdain. "So you're Nightmare. Emma forewarned us of your untimely entrances and ragged appearance. What machination have you concocted this time? And how does it involve us and our classmates?"

Nightmare's smile somehow grew, and he eyed the young woman that had addressed him. Monet St. Croix, one of Emma's dearest students—mysterious and beautiful, the epitome of perfection in appearance and ability. Her bronze complexion, silken hair, and modelseque features captivated him for a moment. She had already impressed him, but Nightmare moved at his own pace. And in his own world, he answered to no one, no matter how beautiful they might be.

"Patience, child. Everything will be revealed when I so feel."

"Kind sir," Monet responded without sounding indignant. "Patience is not a virtue I possess. I have zero compunctions about beating and torturing madmen to get the answers I desire. And at this very moment, you're at the top of my list." She crossed her arms and glared at Nightmare, signaling her seriousness.

Sensing the girl wasn't bluffing, Nightmare didn't feel like risking an unnecessary battle. Especially not since his kingdom was on the line. Waving off her threat with both his hands as if it was physically in front of him, he said, "Now hold on just a minute. Kids these days. So feisty and disrespectful. Just like my own damn kids…"

Jono's patience was running low. _"Stop yer blabberin', mate, and tell us what th' 'ell we're doin' 'ere."_

"And the whereabouts of our friends," added Gaia, feeling the same agitation has her teammates.

"Relax. Just relax. Geez. Your comrades are relatively safe."

Jono frowned, only remotely noting how if felt to actually move his face muscles once again. _"Relatively? I don't like 'ow that sounds."_

Shrugging, Nightmare responded, "Well, if you want the truth, they're all having their worst nightmare over and over again, their fear feeding and empowering me. In part, it's what allowed me to bring your physical bodies into this realm. And well, I'm getting quite the satisfaction from torturing Emma's charges."

"You sadistic monster, I'll—" Michael advanced on Nightmare, his vast telekinetic powers manifesting as a blue, fiery aura. His brown eyes shifted to the same blue hue as his telekinetic energy, as his normally kind features contorted into an angry mask.

Nightmare held up his hand as if he were motioning for him to stop. "Save it for the woman that's at the root of all this—the reason you all are standing here in my Nightmare World. By the way, you kids are way too high strung. You must be picking it up from Emma. A shame really. All that big talk…"

Letting out an angry growl, Michael lashed out with his telekinesis, blasting Nightmare off of his horse, Dreamstalker. "I'm a lot more than talk."

"You're lucky I like you, kid," Nightmare said as he picked himself up off the ground and brushed off his dark green pants and cape. "Actually, that's why I recruited your four."

Monet narrowed her dark eyes as she flipped her hair. "The actuality that this is a variety of an astral existence and the most powerful would be those that are psychics or possess powers which are drawn from the astral plane couldn't possibly be the reason. Or the fact that because of our psychic abilities, our physical bodies are immune to the sleep-inducing qualities of this realm. No, not that either. And of course we're not here because our unique and varied psychic abilities far surpass anything you've ever seen, and you figure your enemy hasn't encountered mutants such as us. So, Nightmare, why don't you tell us why we're here?"

Climbing back onto Dreamstalker, Nightmare nodded with approval. "I can see why Emma's so fond of all of you. I can also see why she thinks you're smart asses. Well, you've figured out the gist of why you're here. Your enemy is this woman," with a wave of his hand, the ground underneath them became a reflective pool. But instead of seeing their own images, a watery image of a thin, pale woman appeared. "Anne Devereaux. Calls herself Angora these days. You kids don't have corny names, do you?"

"Get on with it," Michael snapped.

"Okay, okay," Nightmare resigned. "I really don't know all the details, but somehow, she's got the ability to enter the Nightmare World and reshape it to her own will. I was caught off-guard by her vicious attack and found myself ousted from my own fortress, out of my own world."

Again, Monet interjected. "Do not assume for a moment that we're oblivious to the fact the barrier between this realm and ours has deteriorated."

"Heh. Oh. That. You know that?"

"There is precious little I don't know."

Michael added, "And if you think for a second that were going to inadvertently help you completely destroy that barrier, think again."

"Damn kids. And your pesky dog too. Wait, wrong line. Ummm…" Nightmare's eyes searched the sky above as he rubbed his chin.

_"You're stallin',"_ Jono accused.

Throwing his hands in the air, Nightmare seemed to give up his ulterior motive. "Fine. So that was my intention at first. Now, I just want my realm back. I'll save the rest for another day. And I can't do it without your help. So why don't you just trust me on this?"

Gaia shook her head, as a chilly wind blew through her pink hair. "Wicked demons such as you cannot be fully trusted."

"You got me there," Nightmare rolled his eyes. "But you really don't have a choice, do you? No matter how powerful you are, I'm holding the cards, kiddies. Play nice and you can go home with a full house. Defeat Angora, you, your friends, and teacher will awaken in your own beds with no further threat from me."

Though it sounded straight-forward, Michael kept thinking there was something he was missing. Then it hit him. "Wait. Earlier you said that our friends are in a reoccurring nightmare. You can't leave them like that…you'll drive them crazy!"

An hourglass materialized in front of Nightmare, and with a slight motion from his finger, it flipped, causing the sand to flow steadily from the top to the bottom. "That's why you kids should hurry. Your friends' sanity depends on your timely cooperation."

Impatiently, Gaia commanded, "Then impart the location of your mortal enemy, so we may make haste."

Nightmare pointed a bony finger towards a towering structure in the distance. "She's taken my fortress as her own home. That's where you'll find her. And by the way, I think you should take special interest in the fact that another one of your teammates is here too…Lily Madison."

Upon hearing that Lily was trapped somewhere within that evil fortress incensed Gaia, and her pink psychic energy began to become visible. "Monster! You dare threaten her life?!"

Nightmare yawned. "Okay, so the outbursts are getting real old. That's strictly Angora's doing. She seems to think your cute little friend is her deceased daughter."

Sick of hearing Nightmare's gravelly voice and sassy rhetoric, Michael stepped forward, dissipating his energy for the time being. "Fine. We've heard enough. We'll do what you ask. But think about double-crossing us, and I'll personally tear you apart.

His smile grew impossibly wider. "It'll be fun to watch you try. Now, time is ticking, kids. I'll be seeing you!" Pulling back on the reins, Dreamstalker reared back then took off into the sky as Nightmare's cackle faded.

For a moment, silence befell the foursome. Thunder grumbled somewhere in the distance and lightning illuminated the hazy sky. Torturous howls echoed from far off, and muffled screams seemed to seep through the ground.

"Damn," cursed Michael as he stared at the fortress in the distance. He ran a hand over his short black hair, suddenly wishing that they weren't at such a disadvantage. "We're stuck in a whole other realm and working for that guy. Who or what is he, exactly?"

Monet explained, "Nightmare is an entity whose ability includes the manipulation and propagation of an individual's nightmares. He attempted to solicit Emma's assistance before, but she was competent enough to assuage his concerns and release us from any further dealings with him…until now."

"So he must've somehow taken control of Emma and used her psychic abilities to separate us and put the others to sleep," Michael deduced.

_"That bloody pillock is usin' us for 'is dirty work,"_ Jono added.

Gaia thoughtfully replied, "But does this Angora person really have ill-intent? There could be a sensible reason that the woman has trespassed onto his estate. She could have been lost…"

"You know," Michael said, shaking his head, "I was with you until you said she was lost. Besides, doesn't the name sound one hundred percent evil? Add in the fact that she's taken over this Nightmare World and kidnapped one of our friends, and you've got yourself a bona fide bad guy." He didn't mean for Gaia to take him seriously, but when she didn't laugh, Michael realized that he hadn't said something quite right.

"Your assumptions of the poor, lost woman's intentions are wrong. See that forest?" Gaia pointed to the foliage in the distance. "There are many a character that get confused while traipsing through forests, like the child in the red cloak, or the young brother and sister, or the golden-haired, reckless vagabond, or the young woman who met the dwarves…"

"Gaia," Michel sighed, feeling like he had somehow put himself between a rock and a hard place. "Those people aren't real. Besides, the child in the red cloak and the golden-haired vagabond, as you called them, weren't really lost," he tried to explain. But her unflinching expression told him it was useless. "Fine," he conceded. "It's possible that the woman was lost in the forest and happened upon the evil fortress. And it's possible that Nightmare's using us. But right now, we don't have anything to prove or disprove it. Our first priority is to get to the fortress and find Lily. We can sort out the good guys and bad guys later."

"Agreed," Monet and Jono simultaneously said. Though their entertained smirks told Michael they were actually enjoying the humorous exchange much more than he was.

Taking a deep breath, Michael steadied himself. "You guys ready?"

Hoping that this would be a simple, uneventful task, Michael led his teammates toward the thick forest surrounding the fortress, hoping that Angora was nothing more than a poor, lost old woman. And eventually, he would find that Gaia was right.

II.

Sean Cassidy sucked in a breath as the young nurse—he thought her name was Kelly—wrapped a lengthy bandage over a new dressing. She apologized and proceeded much more slowly, her soft touch grazing his hairy leg every so often. Every time he made a muted sound or took a heavier than normal breath, Nurse Kelly would gaze up at him with flirty blue eyes, smile, and then continue with her job.

On the other hand, Sean felt highly uncomfortable that such a lovely, young woman was touching his leg almost intimately and that he felt a flutter of pleasure from it. Each time the nurse would try to lock eyes with him, he would find a reason to avert his eyes, feeling that somehow, he was trampling on his love for Moira MacTaggert.

It was only a few hours ago that Sean had abruptly learned that Moira had been fatally wounded. The news hit him hard, and before he knew it, he had nearly gotten himself and his two students, Ethan Callaghan and Angelo Espinosa, killed due to reckless driving, not to mention his whole financial deal going sour, which led to him being shot in the leg. Luckily, his two students were tough and saved him from anything worse happening.

As Nurse Kelly secured the bandage, he could feel the embarrassment radiating from his face, and suddenly wished he had Dr. Stevens, an old, crotchety man, fixing him up. Sean was so distracted that he failed to notice strange, dark clouds obscure the sun and also missed the call on his phone. He was simply ready to hit the road, get back to the school, and into his own bed.

Feeling eyes on him, Sean turned and saw Ethan and Angelo lingering in the doorway. "Ach. Are ye enjoyin' th' show?"

Angelo grinned and said, "Just watchin' you squirm is plenty entertainin'." It was the first time in a long time that he had been in a hospital, and truth be told, he wasn't very comfortable. The sooner they could leave, the better.

"There," Nurse Kelly said as she stood. She put her hands on her hips and peered down at Sean, who once again looked away. "You should be good to go, Mr. Cassidy. Now, make sure you use the crutches per the doctor's orders."

"Aye," Sean reluctantly replied.

"And take your pain medication twice a day with food."

"Aye."

"And don't forget about your check up appointments every two weeks."

"Aye."

"And if you have any pain or bleeding, come in right away."

"Aye."

Nurse Kelly couldn't help to smile at the charming older man, who right now looked and sounded like a schoolboy in the nurse's office after scraping his knee. She found herself taken by his rugged, tough-guy appearance, his blue-green eyes, and his Irish accent. But she could also tell there was something bothering him, something that caused him to distance himself from her. It didn't make sense considering she really didn't know him, but it was just something she felt. Woman's intuition maybe.

She stole a quick glance at the two teenagers with him—Ethan and Angelo, she presumed were their names from overhearing some of their exchanges. Ethan would be a handsome man with his icy blue eyes, tanned complexion, dark brown hair, and tall and muscular frame. Angelo was a more slender, with shaggy dark hair, a stubble goatee, and a look in his eyes that told Kelly he had seen much more than a teenager his age should have to see.

But she couldn't help to wonder why the three of them were together. Snow Valley was a small town, so she should have seen them somewhere around town, but this was her first time. Not only were they a handsome trio of gentlemen, they had an aura of mystery around them. She reeled her imagination back in and finished securing the bandage around Sean's leg.

"Take it easy, and try not to get shot in the other leg," she smiled genuinely, surprised that Sean actually met her gaze. She felt her heart flutter slightly and turned away before she began to blush. "And you two," she said, "keep him out of trouble."

"He's quite the troublemaker," Ethan offered with a mischievous smile.

"Somehow, I suddenly don't think that it's him I have to worry about. You boys have a good night. Careful driving home. The weather seems to be changing for the worse." Kelly moved past Ethan and Angelo, and made her way down the hallway, giving them one last look before turning her attention to the charts for other patients.

"Ho-la, Nurse!" Angelo raised an eyebrow as he poked his head out to watch Kelly walk away. Grinning, he brought his attention back to Sean, "So, they're lettin' you walk, old man?" he mused as Sean left the crutches at his bedside and hobbled toward them.

"Ach. Ah cannae stand crutches. They start t' chafe right under m' arms." As he finished, he stumbled a little, his left leg not quite ready for his full weight. Sean recovered his balance and smiled sheepishly.

"You know, Sean, they give them to you for a reason," Ethan stated matter-of-factly.

"Bah! Ah'm fine without 'em," Sean waved off the comment as he limped past, trying to appear as if he was fine without the crutches.

"I think you'll be driving us home, Angelo." Ethan paused, "On second thought, I'll drive us home. Neither one of you seem to know how to follow any kind of driving laws."

As Sean hobbled to the counter, he heard his phone ring, but also heard two similar rings from behind him. Turning around, he noticed Ethan and Angelo going for their phone. Suddenly, his stomach dropped, the feeling that something was wrong suddenly taking a hold of his insides.

Hesitantly, Sean pulled out his phone and noticed a small, illuminated envelope icon at the top of the screen, which meant he had some type of mail. Accessing his inbox, he found a video file attached to a message, and the sender was Paige Guthrie. But it hadn't come from her phone, instead a small note indicated that it had been sent directly from Cerebra.

He then remembered that he had remotely set off the security system when those thugs had taken his palm pilot, which protected the school as well as erased all of its contents. Paige was probably pissed that he activated it while she was there. Imagining the girl slightly irate made him smile, and as he opened the video, he expected to see the young blonde go on a tirade about how hard it was to unlock the security system.

But as the video played, Sean's insides completely disintegrated as everything around him grew to a standstill. There, on the screen, Rico and Paige had their backs to the screen, facing Emma, who stared back at them darkly. In the next second, the light around Emma bent and a barely visible psi-bolt shot from Emma, piercing Paige and Rico. Sean barely heard Emma's words as a sudden look of realization hit her and she cried out. Then Emma collapsed.

Sean watched for minutes after that, but nothing else happened. Stopping the video, he felt as though he had no strength left in his body as he turned toward Ethan and Angelo, who had paled after seeing the video.

"What the hell's this?" Angelo asked, managing to keep his voice low. "We've gotta get back there. Pronto!"

Sean's mind raced through the possible scenarios. But nothing he could think of entirely made sense. Sean went back to the video, and realized there were several playback options attached to the video, since it had been recorded using Cerebra's analytic recording software. "Paige, yuir a genius," Sean said.

Ethan's expression was a little more frantic. "We don't have time to mess with the video again. There's no telling—"

"Hold on jus' a minute, lad. Paige managed t' record this an' send it t' us for a reason. Despite what it looks like, Ah think th' there's more t' th' situation." Sean activated the various playback scenarios, overlaying the scene with an electromagnetic filter then again with a sound filter. Combining the two, Sean motioned for Ethan and Angelo to look. "Th' lass recorded this at a level where we could analyze th' scene. An' Ah can see why." Sean paused the video and pointed to Emma, or rather the outline of someone—or something—else's image around Emma.

"Que es esto?" Angelo murmured, trying to decipher what it was exactly around Emma.

Sean replied, "Ah'm surprised ye dinnae recognize th' bastard. Tis Nightmare. But Ah'm not sure about this Anne Devereaux."

"Nightmare?" Ethan repeated.

Angelo said, "Tch. I only heard about it from Monet. But this _punta_ likes to mess with people's nightmares."

"Language, lad. But he's right. There's no tellin' what his intentions are. We might be headed into a trap if we're nae careful." Exiting the video, Sean noticed that he had a missed call. Tom Corsi. "Looks like Tom called m' phone a few minutes ago. Cerebra, can ye give a status on all students."

A female robotic voice responded, "Status check. Everett Thomas is currently on his return flight from St. Louis. Kiana Asahara, Paige Guthrie, Jubilation Lee, Vincent Sellenger, Vanessa Wallace, and Enrique Vidal registering as unconscious but fluctuating in an unnatural cycle of REM sleep. Michael Lawson, Lillian Madison, Gaia Sophronia, Monet St. Croix, and Jonothon Starsmore are missing. Last known location, Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters."

"Missing? Is it the Corporation?" Ethan suggested.

Before Sean could answer, another call came in. It was Tom again. Sean switched it onto video mode, and Tom's concerned face popped up in the screen.

"It's about time you picked up your phone. You look like hell…what happened?"

"Tis a long story that ended with gettin' shot in th' leg. They jus' released me from th' hospital. Ah think we've got a serious problem on our hands."

"I was afraid of that. I just talked to Olivia Stine, the owner of Icy Delight. She says that her sister is in the hospital, supposedly in a coma. Olivia seems to believe that her sister is somehow projecting nightmares onto anyone around her—basically her mutant power."

"Tom, is th' lass named Anne Devereaux?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"By the saints. Ah think our problems jus' got worse. We got a transmission from Cerebra. Somethin's happened t' Emma an' th' kids. Nightmare's somehow involved an' mentions th' name Anne Devereaux."

"Damn. You want me to head back to the school?"

"Ah dinnae think it'll be much help at this point. Ah did a vitals an' status check…everyone's unconscious but stuck in REM sleep. But th' ones Ah'm more concerned about are th' missing students."

Tom thought for a second. "Let me guess, all the psychic students."

Ethan thought for a moment. "With th' exception of Lily, aye."

"Maybe Olivia was on to something. With Angora's power, she's probably interfering with Nightmare's realm. He probably can't stop her alone. Because it's an astral realm, he needed psychics to help him, and maybe Anne's interference allowed Nightmare to pull their physical bodies into the Nightmare World, making them less susceptible to her omnipotence there. And Lily's abduction makes sense if her sister thought Lily was her deceased daughter."

"If Anne Devereaux's here in this hospital, we'll find her. And get some answers."

As if cued, the lights flickered, garnering concerned gasps and glances about from the nurses and doctors spread throughout the hallways. Sean noticed that the sky outside had gotten much darker and the wind had picked up, banging branches against the windows.

"This already doesn't look good," Tom said, having noticed the weather changes on his end as well. "I don't think we have much time. Honestly, if the students have been taken to the Dream Realm, we're going to have to trust they'll make it back."

"I don't like puttin' m' trust in a madman like Nightmare. If that monster hurts a wee hair on th' lads' head, Ah'll tear him limb from limb with m' bare hands."

"Don't worry, they'll come back. I'm on my way to the hospital now. Corsi out," Tom ended the call.

Sean closed his eyes for a moment, remembering not only his first mission with the X-Men, but also the adventure that brought them together as Generation X. In both situations, they had lost a teammate, someone who sacrificed themselves for a greater good. And Moira's death came to his mind. He couldn't bear another loss, and when Sean's eyes opened, a furious fire of determination burned brightly.

"Ah'll rip down every wall until Ah find this Anne Devereaux an' th' lass answers my questions."

Glancing up from his phone, Ethan said, "Looks like we don't have to damage hospital property today. She's in room four-zero-one. Cerebra can access the in-patient database. Says here she's been in a coma for several years."

"We'll see about that," Sean said as Ethan and Angelo followed him to the elevator, the pain in his leg completely forgotten. Despite the woman's condition, if she was responsible for putting any of the students in harm's way, Sean vowed to ensure Anne Devereaux had an extended stay in the hospital.

III.

Lily Madison awoke to find herself in a foreign bed, surrounded by unfamiliar furnishings and decorations. The canopied queen-sized bed was outfitted with a teal comforter, with baby blue sheets and a printed blanket. Around her were various posters of women athletes and gorgeous teenage males. The large bookcase housed several worn novels, trophies, and trinkets, while various dolls lined floating shelves around the room.

The massive room seemed appropriate for a girl Lily's age, but despite the attempt to create a warm, cozy room, there was something cold about everything there. Rubbing her eyes, Lily threw back the sheets and hopped to the floor.

Glancing around briefly, Lily could feel her sixth sense of foreign, evil entities and objects flying off the charts. She couldn't help but to think that she was surrounded completely by things that were somehow fabricated of malevolent forces. Steadying herself, Lily knew that she would have to be strong, and somehow figure out not only where she was, but why she was there and how to get back to the school.

Just as Lily was pondering the dangers lurking outside of her door, a hard knock startled her. For a brief moment, she considered hiding, but whoever had come to the door may have had a hand in putting her here, so there was no use in trying to fool them. "Yes?" Lily weakly responded.

The door opened and a pale woman, dressed in a maid's outfit stepped inside. Her bluish skin, black eyes, and purple lips made her look more like a demonic zombie than a humble, amicable maid. Her unrealistically fat, doll-like curls didn't move like normal hair, as if the jet black strands had been superglued in place.

Lily choked back a scream as she inadvertently took a retreating step.

"Miss Devereaux, your mother sent me to ensure you were prepared for dinner. I apologize if I startled you," the maid lowered her eyes and bowed respectfully.

Lily relaxed only slightly, figuring that if the zombie maid had intended on hurting her, she would have already attacked. Then her mind processed what the maid had actually said. _Devereaux? Mother? What's going on here? Where am I?_ Lily timidly corrected the maid, "My—name is Lily Madison."

As if she didn't hear Lily, the maid strode over to the closet and opened the double doors. A large display of stylish, formal dresses stared back at her as she scanned each one. "Please, dinner is in fifteen minutes. Your mother wanted you in one of your nicest dresses."

Despite not wanting to agitate the zombie maid, Lily wanted answers. "I don't understand. I'm not leaving here until you tell me where I am. And who is Miss Devereaux?" Lily tried to sound forceful, but the quiver in her voice made it difficult. She held her ground as the maid continued to peruse the dresses.

"Miss," the maid patiently responded, though she didn't turn around, "I understand that the accident may have affected your memories."

"Accident?" Lily repeated.

"Mrs. Devereaux asked that I not speak of it. Now, what do you think of this violet dress?" the maid asked as she turned with a long-sleeved, princess-like dress with matching heels.

There was no way she was going to get any answers from the maid. And though she could have used her powers to escape, without knowing where she was, Lily may have simply been putting herself in more danger. Her best bet, through risky, was to simply go along with the situation and find out where she was and why.

"I think it's beautiful," Lily agreed.

"You always had a splendid eye for dresses," the maid was elated as she draped the dress over the bed. "I shall wait outside while you change. If you need anything, please let me know." The maid then bowed once again then left the room, closing the door behind her.

Lily crossed the room and looked out the window, gasping. The room was impossibly high from the ground, and the landscape looked more like a barren wasteland beyond the strange forest that surrounded the fortress. Lightning rolled across the gray-purple sky as strange monstrosities maneuvered high above the clouds.

_I'm definitely not on Earth anymore._

Quickly changing into the dress and brushing her long, golden locks, Lily looked herself over once before opening the door. The maid paid her a compliment before leading her down the hallway and down some stairs to a massive dining room. An oval dinner table, loaded with food, sat in the middle of the room. After the maid motioned to the seat, Lily sat down as a tall, thin woman entered the room.

The woman's lengthy, flowing black dress fitted her perfectly, and her equally dark hair was pulled into a flawless French roll. Dark makeup punctuated her sharp features, and for a moment, Lily was reminded of the evil stepmother from Snow White. But when the woman's eyes rested on Lily, a soft expression overcame her features, and Lily swore the woman was about to cry.

"Leave us, Abigail."

"Yes, Mrs. Devereaux."

The woman, Mrs. Devereaux as the maid had referred to her, opened her mouth to say something, but her words caught in her throat. As she sat down, she took a sip of tea then said, "Ah, you know that's my favorite dress to see you in, Camille."

_Does she think I'm someone else?_ Lily pondered. Then she immediately remembered Alyssa's cryptic message from the ice cream shop. Was this Alyssa's mysterious aunt who had lost her daughter? And if it was, then was she dangerous?

"I'm glad you like it," Lily answered, trying to decide if it was more dangerous to play along or to tell her the truth. She averted her eyes and immediately took a sip of tea. Surprisingly, the tea tasted normal, despite the weird environment.

"This is going to be our new home. Do you like it?"

Lily shifted uncomfortably in her seat, wishing the woman would stop asking questions. She wasn't quite at ease with lying, and the more she played along, the more lies she had to tell. But Lily figured that was safer than trying to confront Angora with the truth. Instead of answering, Lily decided to start asking the questions.

"Where's father?"

Pain streaked across Angora's face. "Don't worry, honey. I'll find your father soon...just like I found you. But until then, I'll make them all suffer."

Lily didn't like the sound of that, but couldn't figure out how to make her reveal what she meant. Grasping at straws, Lily decided to take a chance. "They don't have to suffer, mother."

"Don't concern yourself with such matters," Angora snapped, an unmistakable edge in her voice, which surprised Lily to the point that she almost spilled her tea. Noticing her daughter's fright, Angora's voice softened, "Do you like the food? It's your favorite, lamb with Italian herb red potatoes, fresh broccoli, and iced tea."

"The food is delicious," Lily said, hoping to placate the woman after her misstep moments ago. When her mother genuinely smiled, Lily breathed a sigh of relief. She decided to take it slow and steady. If Lily pushed her too hard, there was no telling what the woman would do. And being trapped in another world all together, without the confidence that her teammates even knew she was gone, Lily had to watch her next steps very carefully.

IV.

After leaving Nightmare, the four psychic members of Generation X made their way across the barren desert and quickly found themselves venturing through a thick growth of plants none of them had ever seem before. Their color, odor, and texture all seemed like pure evil, and at one time or another, all of them wished that they were out of the weird forest.

"We could have simply flown into the fortress," Monet frowned as she brushed a foreign bug from her shoulder. She pushed back a thick, slimy branch, glad that she chose gloves with her new training uniform.

Michael floated over a felled tree with some unidentifiable liquid oozing out of it. "Yeah, and probably gotten attacked my some flying monster. I've caught glimpses of some crazy things in the sky. Besides," he added, "I can't fly."

"By the wings of Hermes!" Gaia dramatically gasped. She stopped and gaped in disbelief at Michael. "My heart is pained to discover you cannot take to the skies and feel the glorious wind brushing your skin. For such a powerful entity, a task as simple as flying should be mere child's play," Gaia slyly responded, cocking an eyebrow.

"Ever hear about Icarus, Ms. Greek?" Without waiting for an answer, Michael snapped, "I know that I _can_ fly…all I have to do is think about lifting myself into the air and boom, I'm flying. But I don't _want_ to fly…I don't like heights. I mean, I'm seriously not a fan of heights."

Monet stifled a smirk. "Please. Do not tell me you are serious."

"Thanks for being sensitive and understanding."

Jono said, _"If that's what yer looking for, mate, you won't get it from 'er."_

"You have got to be the only telekinetic that does not fly," poked Monet.

"Whatever. I'm probably the only one that realizes the danger of falling. One lapse in concentration, and I'm done for. It's not like people that fly through transvection or with wings. I mean, they can fly forever."

Monet didn't let up. "Hmph. If I didn't know better, I would simply presume you were scared."

"Damn right, I am," Michael retaliated. "The last thing I need is broken bones. Or some sort of internal damage from falling from somewhere high in the sky. Or worse. Anyways, Jono can't fly either, so I guess we're walking." Michael trudged forward through more brush, shuddering at the sticky texture of the plants.

_"Actually, mate, I've been itchin' t' try somethin' since I saw Ev do it,"_ Jono announced from the back. Without waiting for a response, Jono pointed his hands at the ground and focused his biokinetic energy through his hands, then concentrated on forcefully expelling the energy. And just as Jono thought, he began to lift in the air. _"I—I'm flyin'."_

"I don't know if I'm exactly glad for you at this point in time, Jono," Michael said. He winced as Jono appeared off balance for a moment and almost tumbled out of the sky. But he regained his balance, much to Michael's relief, and continued to climb higher.

Smirking, Monet complimented, "I feel inclined to compliment you on your impressive feat. Mind you, such circumstances that astound me do not transpire that often."

"You know, I think your compliments always have some kind of insulting undertone," Michael observed. To Jono, Michael called, "Hey, don't get carried away. I told you I saw something strange flying around—"

Jono responded to Michael's warning with a yelp of pain. A sharp pain tore through his right shoulder as he suddenly felt a loss of control. But instead of falling, Jono found himself gliding through the air, rising gradually, with the odor of decay somewhere much too close. Gathering his senses, Jono managed to cast a glance upward and saw a monster.

A monster was the only word that Jono could use to describe the thing that had dug a set of claws into his shoulder. With sprawling bat wings, bulging green eyes, a head resembling a greyhound's, and oily, slick-looking body, it looked like a composite of the most horrific features possible all mashed together into one entity.

The pain in her shoulder growing, Jono tried to wriggle out of the monster's grasp, but it only responded by clamping down harder.

"Dammit!" Michael cursed as he launched into the air. Monet and Gaia soared into the air behind him, watching as the monster carried Jono higher into the air.

"Jono!" Michael called.

_"I've got it, mate,"_ Jono replied as he thrust his left hand upward, channeling his seemingly endless biokinetic energy through his hand with the same force he had used to lift himself into the air in the first place. The searing blast surprised the monster, and it flailed in the air before completely letting go of Jono, who tumbled head over heels toward the ground.

"We're not going to get to him in time," Michael said.

"Don't worry," Monet said to Michael before she shot forward like a bullet and caught Jono's hands just as he was upright. "Ah. Yet again another impressive display of my unparalleled, magnificent abilities. Oh, by the way, how's your shoulder?"

_"Glad yer concerned in between throwin' yourself compliments, gel. The suit caught the brunt of it. I've got a few scratches, but nothin' quite serious."_

Monet lifted Jono up to a shoulder-support position before banking gently and meeting back up with Gaia and Michael.

_"Thought you didn't fly,"_ Jono said to Michael.

"I didn't think I'd have to save you from a flying monster. I mean, I couldn't fly before. But I don't know…it's not that hard. I'm still a little dizzy from being up so high, but I'll manage."

"Well, since the situation has created an advantageous method of transporting ourselves to the fortress, I suggest we do so and with haste," Monet motioned behind Michael and Gaia.

Spotting where Monet's concern originated, Gaia gasped. "There are more demon spawn flying towards us!"

A swarm of creatures that looked exactly like the first now flew towards them, their hungry eyes locked on the foursome. Their leathery wings flapped hard, making a thick, slapping sound as they approached.

"Monet, what're our chances of making it to the fortress before those things catch up with us?" Michael asked as he led them toward the fortress, flying at a much faster speed than before.

Monet looked back at the creatures for only a moment before answering. "The creatures are traveling at thirty-four point seven miles per hour. Given your highest speed of twenty one point nine miles per hour—"

"Nevermind. I get it," Michael cut her off, as he realized she was eluding to the fact that he was the slowest one among them. But Gaia used her telekinesis to fly as well, so she wouldn't be able to travel as fast either. Realizing this, Michael said, "Gaia, can you make it?"

"Of course. In our previous training sessions, I could clearly surpass fifty miles per hour."

Michael thought about commenting about how much she sounded like Monet right then, but decided that there wasn't any time to waste. Instead, he focused his telekinesis, feeling the energy surge through his body. "Fine. Top speed, everyone. Monet, I trust you won't drop Jono. Now, follow me." Michael shot forward, putting all his focus into propelling himself forward. Initially, he thought it was going to be hard, but it seemed to come naturally as he applied the forces he had used so many times to his own body.

The four teens streaked through the air, putting a great distance between them and the swarm of creatures until they drew close to the fortress. Michael arched upwards, following the wall around until he spotted a high window. Making a show of it, Michael did a slow spin then cut into the window, lowering himself to the floor. Behind him, Monet landed with Jono in tow and Gaia floated in afterwards.

"Commendable. You might be worthy of being in the same class as me in terms of flying ability," Monet smiled.

_"Well, leave me outta it. I nearly lost m' lunch,"_ Jono said, his face pale. Glad to have his feet back on the ground, Jono checked his shoulder then flexed it a little.

Michael noticed Jono's self-examination. "Are you good?" Jono nodded, satisfying Michael's concern. He then turned his attention to the room they had entered.

A large bed with two nightstands were centered on a raised portion of the floor, surrounded by a armoire, mirrored dresser, a chest of drawers, and a bookcase full of novels and dolls. The walls were splashed with normal teenage girl posters of recognizable female athletes and the newest teenage heartthrobs. If they hadn't just escaped from a hoard of flying monsters, Michael would have thought they were in someone's house in Snow Valley. Minus the dark green, stone fortress walls.

Gaia liked the overall decorations, but something just _felt_ strange about the entire place. Like there were some lingering feelings within the objects in the room, but that didn't make sense. Objects didn't have feelings, did they? While Gaia pondered over the strange sensations she was having, she found herself drawn to the dresser—a picture in particular. Looking at it closer, Gaia gasped.

"This picture—it's the owner of Icy Delight and her daughter. There's another woman and a girl who appears to be Lily," Gaia said as she handed the picture to Michael, who studied it curiously. The girl in the photo had the same dimpled smile, same long blond curls, same sparkling emerald eyes. But there was no way that this girl could have been Lily, was there?

Turning to the others, Michael said, "This would explain why Lily's here. I can see how Angora would think that Lily is her deceased daughter. But that just complicates things."

Monet nodded in agreement. "Her emotional state is probably unstable, which would cause her powers to be just as volatile."

_"An' that's not exactly good for us,"_ Jono concluded.

"You guys have any ideas?" Michael asked.

"Aren't you supposed to be proficient in tactical and strategic methodology since you're the self-appointed leader?" questioned Monet.

"It's not like I have a degree or something in it, M. Besides, I wasn't _trying_ to be leader. I mean, if one of you want to wear the crown, feel free."

"Don't misunderstand," Monet shook her head. "I'm not attempting to usurp you from the position…actually, you seem suited for it. But I'm simply encouraging you to create an expeditious, yet practical plan to save Lily and get us back to the school."

"Well, aren't you supposed to be super-smart or something?"

"Shouldn't you be?"

_"We don't 'ave time for bickerin', mates. If you're gonna be the Cyclops of the group, let's get on with it."_

"Fine. Well, so far, no weird alarms have gone off, so we've still got the element of surprise. I should be able to mentally trace Lily's location, but she's probably with Angora. So we can't avoid a confrontation. Let's try to reason with her first. And if that doesn't work, we may have to fight her. Remember, time's a factor—Nightmare's still got everyone else locked in a bad dream. Since we're playing superhero, codenames only. M, Chamber, and…wait, you don't have a codename, do you, Gaia?"

Surprised, Gaia remembered that she had purposely avoided the codename part of the introductions last week. She had thought about it long and hard but nothing seemed quite right or suitable, compared to everyone else's. But now, being put on the spot, Gaia knew she couldn't keep avoiding making a choice. "Well…um…Nascence!"

"Nascence? What's that? And what kind of a name is that?"

"I did not question your rather odd choice of Marvel. Therefore, you have no grounds to impose intrusive questions regarding my name."

"I'm not being intrusive. It doesn't make any sense!"

"A variation on the word nascent, meaning to come into existence. And of Latin origin, in case you were wondering. It's actually quite befitting considering Gaia's recent introduction into our world. In a manner of speaking, she is coming into her own existence with every experience," Monet explained.

Jono frowned. _"Do we really 'ave the time to debate codenames right now?"_

"No, we don't," Michael quickly responded. Steading himself, he turned toward the door. "Nascence it is. Everybody ready?"

After getting affirmative confirmation from everyone, Michael ventured out into the hallway first, creeping down the hallway and keeping his back against the wall. He would check ahead, then motion to the others to follow, ensuring that they didn't run into unwanted trouble. Michael had quickly pinpointed Lily's location, which was a few floors down from where they were. What he didn't tell them is that he was able to also backtrack through her mind and retrace her steps to get to her location.

"Do you know where we're going?' Gaia asked in a hushed whisper.

"I wouldn't be in the front if I didn't," he answered, realizing that he too was beginning to sound like Monet. _I've got to stop hanging around her, even if she is a distant relative._ Maneuvering around a corner and up to a door, Michael opening it a crack to peer inside.

"Welcome to my home, children," Angora made a motion with her hand and the door opened all the way, exposing the four teens. Sitting upon her throne with her legs crossed, with Lily next to her, she continued, "I've been expecting you. Unfortunately, I don't think you'll be staying too long."

"So much for the element of surprise," Monet whispered to Michael.

"Look, I don't need that now," Michael snapped back. Leading the way into the chamber, Michael lanced around, making sure they weren't walking into a monster-infested trap. But despite the deep shadows and ominous aura, they were alone with Angora and Lily, which made Michael even more concerned.

Directed at Angora, Michael said, "Your fortress is hideous and scary, so we didn't plan on staying long anyways. We'll just take our friend Lily and let you and Nightmare sort out who this place belongs to, since you're the reason he's holding our friends hostage."

Angora smiled pleasantly, but there was a hint of evil behind it. "This is my daughter, Camille. And I know all of her acquaintances, and I can't say that I recognize any of you. Quite honestly, you look like a bunch of hooligans who I would never let my precious Camille entertain company with."

"Hooligans?" Michael repeated.

"As insulted as I should be, I place no value in your initial perceptions, since if you had asked me, I would have said that you resemble a nefarious sorceress with emotional hang-ups and an inferiority complex. But since we're not going on first impressions, let's just move on," Monet replied.

As Angora fumed, Michael again had to hold back a chuckle. He had to give it to Monet—with her, everyone was a target.

Lily stepped forward and touched Angora's arm. "But these are my friends," she said, hoping to avert the brewing confrontation.

Waving the girl off, Angora responded, "Nonsense, Camille. They are pawns of Nightmare, summoned to do his bidding."

"We are pawns for no one, evil witch!" Gaia shot. "You fooled me once into believing you were a lost old woman, but no longer."

_Maybe they did have way too many outbursts,_ Michael thought, remembering Nightmare's assessment from earlier. Still, the outbursts were entertaining at best, fight-starters at worst. And this time, Michael was sure Gaia's last comment had pushed them past the point of no return.

Angora cackled. "Well, then, I'll be the wicked witch. But this fairy tale won't have a happy ending…for you at least. Your bones will serve as a snack for my pet. Begone!"

Before they could react, Angora waved her hand, and the teens disappeared in a flash of light.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional

Within Gaia's defense of Angora, she was referring to Little Red Riding Hood, Hanzel and Gretel, Goldilocks, and Snow White, respectively. Just in case you didn't catch that.

Adele FyreSkye: Thanks for the review. If I was writing this story based off reviews, I would have stopped a long time ago. Luckily, I feel I have a good story to tell, so I continue to plug away at the chapters. Yeah, I know cliffhangers are no fun…so here's the next chapter!


	19. Nightmare's End

I.

"I feel like I've been asking the same question over and over again…where the hell are we?" Michael Lawson asked more rhetorically than anything else. He checked himself over after their fall—apparently, Angora had no problem teleporting them elsewhere into the middle of the air. It had all happened so fast that none of them had the chance to stop themselves from hitting the ground.

It was only mere moments ago that the foursome stood in Angora's throne room, attempting to get back their teammate, Lily Madison, and escape the fortress untouched and without a fight. Obviously, Angora had another plan, which involved them lost and possibly trapped in some type of underground cavern.

Michael brushed off his training uniform—a snug, short-sleeved shirt, loose slacks that meshed seamlessly with his boots, and gloves. The damp chill of the cavern made him wish he had chosen a jacket too. He rubbed his toned arms briefly before turning his attention to their surroundings.

He couldn't immediately discern where the light originated, but the dim glow seemed to emanate from the cavern walls themselves, creating long, dark shadows along the rocky walls, floor, and ceiling. The walls extended about twenty feet up, and the ceiling was sprinkled with stalactites that looked more like jagged teeth ready to grind and mash them to pieces. But the thing that caught and held his attention was the obtrusive, gaping hole in the middle of the cavern.

The hole had caught Monet's attention only briefly as she surveyed the area. "According to the environmental elements and the approximate time-lapse of our teleportation," Monet St. Croix paused as her mind raced through complex calculations and geometric triangulation, "I would say that we were transported into caverns directly below the fortress."

Impressed, Michael couldn't even begin to imagine how she came to that conclusion. He was just glad they had a walking GPS on their team. "So she zapped us down here to this creepy place, but why?" he mumbled the question, hoping to come to an answer quickly.

Gaia scrunched her nose in disgust. "Ugh. And the stench is like the way the bathroom smells after Jono—"

_"We get the point,"_ Jono hurriedly interjected. _"No need t' bring up useless nonsense, right?"_ Shaking his head and still getting used to rubbing his chin, Jono's attention was on the large hole. _"You know, I don't think I like the looks o' that large 'ole."_

In response, a deep rumbling shook the entire cavern and a barely audible growl floated from the hole. The teens all paused for a moment, holding their breaths as they waited for the next sudden rumbling. But all was still.

"What manner of creature dwells within that pit?" Gaia asked, but decided to keep her distance from the edge.

Jono took cautious steps towards the edge of the chasm. _"Didn't the old woman mention somethin' 'bout 'er pet?"_ He slowed his advance then peered down into the vast darkness, but saw nothing. Then another growl escaped the void, much closer and louder than the one before.

The cavern shook fiercely, and rocks began to fall from the ceiling. Michael responded quickly, creating a telekinetic umbrella to repel the chunks of cavern. The earthquake continued, and for a moment, he thought the entire cavern was going to collapse in on itself.

A roar echoed off the walls and a slimy, segmented _thing_ erupted out of the hole. Even in the dim light, it appeared shiny and wet as its eyeless head swayed languidly back and forth. An impossibly massive mouth covered most of its head and it opened and closed with a sickening, moist sound as it continued to growl and roar.

The monster surprised Jono and he threw himself backwards, using his biokinetic energy as a propulsion system firing from his hands. _"What the 'ell is that?"_ he shouted, barely able to regain his footing. His teammates had closed the distance and all of their eyes were fixated on the creature in front of them.

"Chamber, can you blast it?" Michael more commanded than asked.

_"Got it, mate!"_ Jono pointed his fists at it and let his endless energies shoot forth, bathing the cavern in an orange light. The attack hit the creature near its head, but it seemed unfazed as it suddenly turned its mouth toward the teens. It let out another shriek before bearing down on Jono, intending on swallowing him whole.

Jono pointed his hands downward as he leaped backward, using the thrust from his hands as a boost, clearing him from the creature's path. It tore through the rock with ease, reared back, and growled again.

Gaia focused her thoughts, lifting several chunks of the cavern walls lying around them. She then melded the rocks together, morphing them with her reality-shaping abilities into a single, pointed shard. With a grunt, she launched it toward the massive worm's body. She thought that the rock would easily piece through the creature with the force she put behind the flying rock, but it simply shattered on impact. And the worm turned its attention on her.

She stepped backwards, and as fate would have it, hit a rock and lost her balance. Hitting the ground hard, she glanced up just in time to see the worm diving for her, its impossibly large mouth bearing down on her. Unable to focus, she attempted to scurry out of the way, but the worm was moving much too quickly, despite its size. "No!" she faintly gasped.

Then she was grabbed, and then they were tumbling over the rough ground. When they came to a stop, Gaia saw the worm diving through the place she was just standing. Looking back she saw Jono picking himself up then extending a hand to help her up.

_"You okay?"_ he asked.

"I…I think so. I'm grateful that—"

_"No time for the lengthy, poetic thanks, gel,"_ Jono said as he felt the ground underneath them shaking. He pointed his hands downward and shot into the air, followed by Gaia as the ground crumbled away and the worm burst forth. _"I don't think our attacks are cuttin' it, mate!"_ he shouted toward Michael, as he and Monet joined them in the air.

Before Michael could respond, the worm was upon them, swinging its upper body toward them with the intent of batting them towards the ground. But Monet was faster and stronger as she stopped its downward arc with her left held, held it at bay for a moment, then planted a solid punch with her right which forced the worm back, but it quickly recovered and prepared for another pass.

"Marvel, the worm's hide is three feet thick, most of it deadened to outside stimulus," Monet rapidly reported. "The only way to effectively stop this biological impossibility is through its mouth."

Michael understood, rather impressed with Monet's analytical ability. And just as quickly as she had gathered facts about the creature, he figured out how to defeat it. He smiled as he thought that maybe he had some of the same analytical skills Monet had, but they were just revealed in a different manner.

"M, can you buy us some time?" After she nodded, Michael turned to Gaia and Jono. "Nascence," Michael shuddered as he said the awful codename, "Chamber, we're going to combine our powers for a time bomb of sorts. Nascence and I will hold your energy within a telekinetic bubble. I want you to load up as much energy as we can hold."

Michael shot a quick glance toward Monet, who was pummeling the worm back with her fists. A huge grin spread across her face as if she were actually enjoying herself. "Are you ready?" he asked Jono and Gaia.

As Jono used one hand to shoot energy into the air, Michael and Gaia concentrated on grabbing and holding that energy in a telekinetic sphere. He kept pouring his boundless energy into the sphere while Michael and Gaia combined their might to keep the expanding energy tight within its confines. As the energy grew, it became harder to hold in such a tight space, which was exactly what Michael wanted.

When the bounding energy was nearly too much for them to hold, Michael gave Jono a signal to stop.

_"M, can you lure the creature our way?"_ Michael telepathically asked. It was taking all of his external strength just to keep himself aloft and hold the energy together. Moving quickly, Monet gave the worm one last punch, then dove downwards. She streaked past the trio, impressed by the amount of energy contained within the small sphere.

As Michael predicted, the worm followed, bearing down on Monet, it's wide, hungry mouth gaping open. Noticing Gaia's strain, he hoped that she could hold out for just a few more moments. If they released it too early, there was a chance that the energy would prematurely explode outward before the worm consumed it.

Michael waited until the last possible second before telepathically shouting, _"Now!"_ The trio split off into three directions, as Michael and Gaia concentrated on holding the energy together as the worm inadvertently swallowed it. After another nod from him, they both released their hold on the energy, and with a loud boom, the energy burst forth, small streams of light escaping through holes in the worm's body.

The worm shrieked in pain then quickly retracted back into its hole, its cries disappearing into the black void below them.

"One pest down. One to go," Michael said with a tone of relief. "Since we're right below the fortress, we should be able to tunnel back to the throne room, right?"

Monet nodded. "Correct."

"M, Chamber, can you give us the most direct path to the throne room?" Michael glanced up toward the ceiling to make his point.

_ "Got it, mate,"_ Jono said Monet grabbed Jono underneath both of his shoulders. Without having to hold himself in the air, Jono was able to redirect his blasts toward the cavern ceiling. Like a hot laser through butter, Jono melted a hole through the thick rock, burrowing an escape route.

Michael took up the rear behind Gaia, Monet, and Jono as they flew towards the throne room. Though he tried, he wasn't exactly sure how they were going to beat Angora this time, but they didn't have time to waste. Charging forward, he decided that they would defeat Angora no matter what it took.

II.

Sean figured that he could have blown a hole through the floors and flown up to the fourth floor in a fraction of the time it took the clambering elevator to advance one floor. And it didn't help that people got on and off at every floor. Feeling antsy, he knew that every second that ticked by was another second that his students were in the clutches of a madman and potentially unstable woman.

When the elevator finally reached the fourth floor, Sean practically ran off the elevator. Ethan and Angelo stayed close behind, their own concern for their teammates energizing them.

"What room was it, lad?" Sean asked as he briskly strode down the hallway. Nurses looked at him curiously, but no one tried to question or stop him, which he was thankful for. He wasn't sure that his patience was long enough to try to develop a reasonable explanation as to why they were heading to a coma patient's room.

"Four-zero-one," Ethan answered, his own trepidation evident in his voice.

Noticing, Angelo quietly asked, "Ethan, you okay man?"

Ethan shook his head. "No. Not really. I should've been there. Paige…not to mention everyone else. And if the others are missing…I just…damn." He felt as though he couldn't even put coherent thoughts together. It was bad enough that they had an unknown, looming danger floating somewhere out there, but now, they were immersed in a dangerous situation that could spell disaster for all of them. And then who knows what would happen to Dr. Cain.

_Don't think like that,_ he told himself. He didn't know Jono, Gaia, or Monet all that well, but he did know Michael. And he knew that Michael would do everything in his power to ensure they all got back safe and sound.

Angelo's response cut into Ethan's thoughts. "Think about it, hombre. We would've been no better off than they were. Right now, with being here, we can do somethin' to make sure our friends survive."

Ethan was surprised at Angelo's serious side every time it surfaced. _Probably because he always tended to say something profound and useful given the situation._ He found his respect for Angelo growing the more he hung out with him, despite not necessarily agreeing with some of his pranks.

"You're right," Ethan said. He clenched his fist, resolving to do whatever it took to save the other students. And Paige.

Sean overheard their conversation, but didn't interject. He didn't need to. More and more, Angelo was maturing into an effective team member, slowly but surely shedding his cynical outlook that he came to the school with. He knew that Angelo didn't want to be a superhero, but if he ever did, Sean was sure he would make a damn good one.

As they progressed down, the noticed less doctors and nurses in the hallway, until it seemed as thought they were walking through an empty hospital. As they turned the last corner, Sean found that there was something oppressive and ominous about the silence that hung heavily in the air. All of the doors were closed, and there seemed to be no activity in this area, as if this part of the hospital hadn't been used in years.

"Hey, you sure it said four-oh-one?" Angelo asked Ethan.

"Positive," Ethan whispered, feeling the same menacing atmosphere that Sean was. "It's right up there," Ethan pointed to the last door on the left.

Sean now moved much more cautiously down the hallway, and the two teens followed suit. He halfway expected something to jump out of one of the closed rooms, but when he reached the room, Sean shook his head. _Ach! Dinnae start imaginin' things._

His hand closed around the icy door handle, but before he could even put pressure on it, the door flew open and a swarm of darkness burst forward. Millions of locusts poured out of the room, flowing out into the hallway and beyond. Sean threw up his hands as he fell against the opposite wall, keeping his mouth closed for fear that the buzzing monstrosities would creep into his mouth.

They continued to pour out of the doorway, traveling down the hallway, slipping into rooms through the tiniest cracks.

"What are these things?!" Ethan screamed. He had dropped to the ground and the locusts whisked only inches above his flattened body, the sheer force of their flight whipped his hair and clothes and distorted his shouted question. Not hearing a response, Ethan chanced a peek and caught a glimpse of Angelo pressed against the wall with his face turned away from the flow of locusts, while Sean was just beyond Angelo's reach, shielding his face from the onslaught.

As suddenly as they had appeared, they stopped, the last of the locusts joining the swarm that disappeared around the corner. Ethan climbed to his feet and threw open one of the doors and nearly gagged. The locusts were crawling all over a patient that was lying in the bed. Disgusted, Ethan turned away and ran down the hallway and stopped when he got around the corner.

All through the hallway, the doctors and nurses were all sprawled on the ground, covered in the creatures.

Sean entered the room that Ethan had left and focused his sonic scream. A sound ripped from his mouth, which scattered the locusts about the room. That's when Sean noticed the patient let out a snore then flailed before lying back still again. He quieted his scream, and the locusts converged back on the patient.

"What the hell, man?" Angelo asked from the doorway.

"We're seeing Angora's influence as locusts. She's put everyone to sleep in the hospital, and is using them to feed her power, just like Tom said."

"But we're not affected."

Sean tapped his temple. "Th' only explanation that makes sense is that Emma may have psychically shielded us before she collapsed. An' she's somehow keepin' us protected."

"Ms. Frost," Ethan said, respecting the woman's quick thinking.

When Sean entered the hallway again, he found the door to room 401 closed again. He held his breath as he tried the door and found it unlocked. Giving Angelo and Ethan a nod to cover him, he pushed it open slowly, expecting more locusts to shoot out. Instead, the door creaked open, and there in the darkened room, he found Anne Devereaux.

Lying in a hospital bed, neatly tucked under the covers, the woman laid there, undisturbed. The beeping monitors on the side of the bed were the only indication that she was actually alive.

Sean stepped in cautiously, his senses on high alert. It was then that he noted the deafening silence in the room, their footsteps on the linoleum the only sound through out the entire floor.

Giving Ethan and Angelo a motion to stay where they were, Sean walked to the side of the bed. He glanced over the monitors again then leaned in close. "Anne Devereaux?"

The woman's eyes shot open, revealing nothing but black orbs.

Sean stumbled back, but gained his balance quickly. But the woman was already making her move as she sat up stiffly. The door slammed behind them, the middle of it actually cracking from the force.

Angelo tugged on the door. "Dios! We're locked in!"

"Not for long," Ethan said as he grabbed for the door. There was a jolt and in the next second, he flailed through the air and hit the opposite wall. He fell to the floor and moaned painfully.

Sean reacted quickly, letting a sonic scream rock the room. The walls and bed shook, but Angora seemed unaffected, rising out of the bed, floating by some means that he couldn't immediately discern.

"You cannot stop me," Angora's voice echoed through the room. Holding out her hands, an amber energy pulsated from her hands, crippling all three. Then she bombarded them with a continuous blast from her eyes. "I'll kill you before I let you interfere with my revenge!"

Sean thought his insides were boiling and he couldn't move his limbs at all. For the first time, he wasn't sure how he was going to save himself or his students.

III.

"Damn. I hope I'm not too late," Tom Corsi said aloud as he sped down the otherwise quiet streets of Snow Valley. His mind kept jumping between the school and the hospital, wondering if everyone there was okay. Judging from Sean's report, things weren't going well. And there was no telling what powers Anne Devereaux possessed, which made her a dangerous wildcard.

The evening sky grew darker as black clouds rolled over the town and the wind picked up. The streets were surprisingly empty, despite the time of day. He felt uneasy as he wondered if Anne's tentacles had reached the unsuspecting residents of Snow Valley and somehow had them trapped within their own homes and buildings.

Tom shook off the thought as he skidded to a stop right in front of the hospital doors. Almost in a fluid motion, he threw his jeep in park, hopped out and ran to the front doors. Expecting it to open automatically, he nearly ran into the door when it remained closed.

He almost simply punched through the glass, but taking a moment, he peered inside and saw swarms of locusts crawling all over the place. "What the hell?" he mumbled disbelievingly. The winged insects were everywhere, and in places where they had amassed, Tom could make out the bodies of fallen doctors and nurses. If he went in there, there was a strong chance he would fall victim to the same fate.

Hitting his fist against the doorframe, Tom hoped that Sean, Ethan, and Angelo were somewhere in there, untouched and putting a stop to Anne Devereaux's plans. Because right now, they were the only chance this town had.

IV.

As her friends disappeared in a spectacular flash of light, Lily gasped and her heart skipped a beat. "Where did you send them?" she breathily asked Angora, who smiled. Deep in the woman's eyes, she sensed a deep, purely evil darkness and that is what scared her the most.

"Do not worry, Camille," Angora brushed a thin hand through Lily's hair. "No, there's nothing to worry about. This is our new home, and we'll be a family once again. And no one will take that away."

Imagining the worst, Lily couldn't stop the anger from boiling deep inside of her. Not only had she been kidnapped by this strange woman, but now her friends were suffering and their fates were now unknown. For the first time since she got here, she lashed out.

"No!" the girl shouted, her cheeks reddened and eyes flared. "I—I 'm not your daughter."

Angora reacted as if she expected such an outburst, smiling sympathetically, still brushing her hand through Lily's hair. "Camille, I understand…the amnesia after the accident…"

Lily slapped Angora's hand away and moved laterally, but out of Angora's immediate reach. "My name is Lily Madison. I'm not your daughter. She's…she's dead. And this won't bring them back. They were my friends, my family. And if even if you were my mother, I would deny it…no mother of mine would ever hurt my friends."

"That is quite enough, Camille," Angora snapped. Despite the angry appearance, she appeared as if Lily's words had physically hit her, and she was trying her best to fend off the attacks.

Noticing the woman's wavering expression, Lily took advantage of the momentary lapse. "Don't call me that. I'm not your daughter. Bring my friends back!" She hoped that her words would snap the woman out of her delusion, and she would realize the damage that had been done already.

But instead, Angora's face hardened and her eyes narrowed angrily. "Enough! I don't know what has gotten into you, but if it has to do with those children, I will kill them. You should go up to your room and think about the nasty things you've said, young lady."

_She's going to kill them?_ Lily couldn't believe that Angora had said something like that so causally. The anger inside of her turned into a raging inferno, and for the first time, she felt as though she were going to lose control. "You're going to bring them back, or so help me…"

Lily clenched her hands at her sides, and a bright light began to surround her, but quickly, that light turned dark as a deep blackness clouded over her eyes. Her wings of light darkened as well, taking the shape of demonic wings. The atmosphere around them reacted as well as a wind picked up from nowhere and the lights flickered.

For a moment, Angora took a step back, her anger from earlier gone. Witnessing Lily's transformation stunned her, and only for a moment did everything seem clear. And wrong. But it was quickly replaced with repulsion for the girl in front of her. For the first time that night, Angora thought that the girl in front of her may not be her daughter.

Still abhorred, Angora stammered, "You—you're not my angel."

Lily exposed a set of sharper, dangerous canines. "No. I'm something far worse," she snarled as she took an aggressive step forward. But before Lily could take action, there was a distinct rumbling far below them, which grew closer with each passing second. Then a hole burst in the middle of the floor and Monet, Jono, Gaia, and Michael flew out of it and hovered in the air.

Seeing her friends, Lily's anger almost immediately dissipated and her normal features returned before anyone else noticed the change.

"Now, where were we?" Michael rhetorically asked in a playful manner. "Oh yeah. Angora," he pointed at the woman, "You're finished."

Angora smiled wickedly. "I can't say that anyone has stood against my pet and lived. I commend you on your abilities. But in a place where I hold all the cards, you are but a drop in the bucket."

_"I'm not really sure what that means, but this realm isn't yours to toy with,"_ Jono said.

"Fools! I will destroy your minds and bodies!"

Gaia gasped, "Ruthless medusa! Would you really take our lives so nonchalantly?!"

_Ruthless medusa?_ Michael had to hold back a chuckle, considering the gravity of the situation. He had to commend Gaia for her timely insults though. To her comment, Michael added, "I always try to respect my elders, but you're making it real hard with your threats. Don't make us hurt you."

Lily took a step forward. "Please," she pleaded, "You don't have to fight with us. We only want to help."

Again, Angora seemed to waver then she closed the gap between Lily and herself. Michael moved forward to provide backup for his teammate, but Monet grabbed his arm and shook her head.

_"If she can get through to her, maybe we don't have to fight,"_ Monet telepathically said.

Michael held back, but he couldn't help but to think that they were way too far past the idea of simply talking. He watched as Angora caressed Lily's face.

"My sweet child," she cooed. Then from nowhere, Angora swung a vicious backhand, striking Lily squarely in the face. The young girl fell to the floor, barely holding on to consciousness. Angora looked down at her, "The infidels are trying to ruin my family. But I won't let them."

Michael was already on the move, shooting forward through the air towards Angora. "No mother I know hits their daughter like that!" he plowed right into Angora, lifting her into the air and slamming them both into the wall.

"Cover him!" Monet commanded to Jono. "Nascence, ensure Lightwing's protection," she added before taking to the air to survey the situation.

Before the dust cloud cleared, Michael found himself toppling through the air, back towards the middle of the throne room. He watched as Angora shot upwards towards the ceiling, her black dress slightly torn and dirty.

"You dare attack me in a world where I control everything?!"

Before Michael could pursue her, the floor underneath him came alive, and thick tentacles whipped out and entangled themselves around Michael's arms and legs. Automatically creating a shield around himself, he spied Jono out of the corner of his eye, already blasting the tentacles, which completely disintegrated.

Jono then shot into the air, firing off blasts with one hand. But he wasn't doing a good job of balancing himself, so his attacks were completely off the mark. Angora made a sweeping motion with her arm, and a wave of energy shot down, nabbing both Michael and Jono. They pummeled to the ground hard.

Before Monet could charge Angora, she saw Gaia cradling Lily, surrounded by the furniture, which had somehow been brought to life, complete with claws and sharp teeth. Gaia was doing a good job of keeping them at bay, but more and more seemed to be marching in through the door.

Monet quickly took a large chunk of the floor, and hurled it toward the double doors. With a loud crunch, the boulder was lodged in place, blocking the door. Next she turned to Angora and shot towards her.

"You children don't learn do you?" she said as she made a sweeping motion with her hand and another energy wave sped towards Monet.

Smiling, Monet shot back, "I'm smarter than you. I'm more powerful than you. I'm more beautiful than you'll ever be. Do you really think that I don't learn from mistakes, the few that I happen to make?" Monet held out her hand and channeled her psychic energy into it, repelling the wave and sending it right back towards an unprepared Angora. Monet smirked as the wave struck Angora, and while the woman was dazed, Monet flew next to her and landed a solid blow to her face. "Now, tell me how _you_ like being hit in the face."

Angora fell to the ground, but Monet was right there, and lifted her back up with one hand. With another punch, Angora stumbled toward the window. Michael finished her off with a telekinetic push, which sent her toppling out of the window, and her scream died away quickly.

The furniture reverted back to its original form, completely ceasing movement around Lily and Gaia.

Monet spun and saw Michael barely moving. "I'm surprised that you're even awake. That wave was a devastating attack."

"Telekinetic and psychic shield," Michael explained as he gingerly sat up. "It's kind of an automatic thing now. How did you avoid it?"

"Quite simple," Monet said as she helped Michael to his feet. "Keep in mind why Nightmare dragged us into his demented world in the first place. This realm is fundamentally an astral plane, and because of which, our abilities make us quite formidable. Since our physical bodies are here, we're thinking within the bounds of the physical realm. In reality, we have the same advantages and boundless horizons when it comes to attack and defense. Angora's waves were nothing more than a concentrated psychic attack. All I did was focus my own psychic energy and repel her inadequate attack."

Monet's explanation made sense, even through the hazy fog that still lingered in Michael's head. And she was right. They had been thinking about everything in normal world boundaries since they first arrived. None of that applied here, and Monet was clever enough to use it to her advantage against Angora. But Michael wondered if she had known it all along and simply waited until now to reveal it.

_Doesn't matter now anyways,_ he told himself as Monet helped him to his feet. He glanced around and spotted Jono stirring from his place on the floor. Floating across the floor, the two teens helped Jono to his feet as well.

Jono's hand went to his head as soon as he stood. _"I feel like m' 'ead is gonna explode. What 'appened to Angora?"_

"She's gone," Michael answered, motioning toward the window.

"Our plight has been blessed by the gods—enemies from this day forth will not ever again underestimate us," Gaia smiled triumphantly as she and Lily neared them.

While the teens congregated, trying to decide what to do next, Angora shot back through the window and without a word, hit the teens with a concentrated beam of energy. Caught unaware, they cried out in surprise and pain as the attack penetrated both their bodies and minds.

Michael's telekinetic shield helped only slightly, but he could feel his energy dwindling and the darkness of unconsciousness began to creep in from the corners of his eyes. _No, I can't let us be defeated here,_ he told himself, but the staggering pain kept him pinned to the ground. He managed to see everyone else out of the corner of his eye, and they were in the same shape. _I've got to…_

_"I'm disgusted to hear you whimpering like a child, Mr. Lawson."_

For a moment, Michael thought that he was imagining the voice of Emma Frost inside his head. But then, he could feel her, but it was weak, as if she were somewhere far away.

_"Ms. Frost?"_

_"There's no time for foolish questions. Just listen to what I'm going to tell you._ _To defeat her, you're going to have to attack her corporeal body. Unlike you, her body is nothing more than a solid astral projection of herself. Right now, Sean, Ethan, and Angelo are battling her. I've been psychically shielding them, and I'm going to muster the last of my energy to give you an opening. Of the bunch, you're the most capable of carrying this out. Do you understand?"_

_"Not really. We're trapped here. I can't get to Sean and the others."_

Emma sighed impatiently. _"Angora is drawing her power from her physical body, so she's psychically connected to herself. You can travel across that bridge and manifest your astral self in the normal world."_

_"I don't know if I can. What if—"_

_"I don't have time for your doubts and hesitation. I'm going to break her psychic shields. I'll guide you for as long as I can. Then it's up to you."_

Before Michael could ask any questions, he heard a painful yelp escape Angora's lips before she staggered against the wall, completely dazed and weakened. _This is my chance!_ Michael closed his eyes and reached out to Angora's mind, suddenly he was flying through a tunnel of bright colors. The mental kaleidoscope sped by, knowing that a single lapse in concentration would cast him into the colorful void, his mind lost forever. But he couldn't falter or fail, not just for his sake but for the rest of the team's sake. Focusing even more, he kept his eyes affixed forward as he continued to sail towards a brilliant speck, which quickly grew into an overwhelming wall of light.

When he hit the wall of light, for a moment, Michael found himself in a completely white room, with Emma standing in front of him.

_"Ms. Frost?"_

_"I—I'm here. But not for long."_

_"You sound…"_

_"No time for that. Your astral projection can combat her psychic attacks. It's the only chance Sean, Ethan, and Angelo have…I…" _Emma's image faded and Michael was thrown into a darkened room.

He found himself standing in between Angora and a fallen Sean, Angelo, and Ethan. Angora grinned manically as energy poured from her hands, satisfaction building from the pain she was inflicting, so engrossed that she didn't notice Michael's astral form until he had stepped in front of her, and erected a telekinetic shield to repel the brunt of the attack. The luminous power shot out in various directions as Michael held his ground, and Michael remembered that Emma told him he would be able to repel her psychic attacks.

_"Banshee, guys, are you okay?"_ Michael asked, realizing he could only communicate with them telepathically, which made sense because he was nothing more than a mental manifestation of himself.

Recovering, Sean grabbed his aching head, "Michael? Ah dinnae know how th' Sam hell ye got here, but Ah'm glad t' see ye."

_"It's just an astral projection,"_ Michael explained.

"An astral projection?" Ethan repeated, again taking note of the vast abilities Michael seemed to be displaying as of late. "Mike, you—"

Michael strained against Angora's increasing attack. _"Question me about it later, Vanguard. Right now, if we don't defeat her here, we're going to die."_

"You insolent whelp! I should have killed you when I had the chance. You won't stop me from making everyone suffer as I have!" Angora focused more, increasing her energy output. Michael held strong, but quickly faltered as the energy became too much. Now using both hands to deflect the energy, Michael collapsed to one knee as his body began to slide backwards.

Sean could only watch as Michael strained under the pressure of Angora's attack. Realizing what was happening, He saw that Michael was buying them a few extra seconds—a little extra time that they couldn't afford to waste. "Marvel, can ye get us an openin'?!"

"I—I don't know," Michael stammered, feeling the heat and force of the energy breaking through his astral projection. He didn't know what would happen if it was injured, but he was sure that it wouldn't have a good outcome. Fearing the worst, he grunted and gathered strength that he didn't know he had.

A surge of power suddenly coursed through him, and for a moment, he felt as though everything around him had slowed to a standstill. His mind felt completely open as for a fraction of a second he could feel every object within the room. Every thought and memory of Sean, Angora, Angelo, and Ethan were completely exposed, and he could sift through them with ease over and over again. Everything felt open to him, and for the first time, he understood the power he wielded. And it was glorious.

Michael stood with ease, Angora's attack no longer overpowering him as he held out a single hand, deflecting the amber energy in every direction. With a grunt, he thrust his hand forward, launching his own psychic attack. The azure bolt broke Angora's energy apart as it tore through the air and found its mark in the center of her chest. He smiled at Ethan as his astral form faded, pulled back to his physical body.

The force of the attack took Angora completely off her feet, slamming her into the wall as she let out a cry of pain. Falling to the ground, she suddenly felt her hands pinned to her sides as something snaked around her body. "What is this?!"

Angelo stood in front of her, the extra skin from his arms continuing to tangle around her midsection. Despite struggling, she felt the skin grow tighter as Angelo grinned. "I'll make you suffer! Unhand me!" she demanded through gritted teeth.

"Not until we're sure you can't do any more harm," Ethan said as he dashed up beside her. Placing a soft hand on her jawline, he shook his head as he pulled away. Before he could say anything, Angelo was already unwrapping his arms, then flipped out of the way, leaving Sean standing showdown style with Angora.

She screamed angrily as she held out her hand, hoping to blast Sean with her power. "What?! What happened? Why can't I—"

"M' student negated yuir powers, Anne," Sena softly replied. "This isn't th' way t' bring back yuir family."

"What the hell do you know?! You've never lost anyone you loved."

"But Ah have. Too many. Hurtin' everyone around ye won't bring 'em back. Hurtin' yuirself won't bring 'em back."

Angora shook her head, denying Sean's logic. "No!" her voice rose madly. "I wanted to make everyone suffer. Camille didn't deserve to die. Jean-Luc didn't deserve to die. All of you deserve to suffer, like I have!"

"We've all had our bit o' sufferin' t' deal wit', lass. And ye've got t' deal wit' yuirs th' same as th' rest o' us have. What yuir doin' here isn't how t' do it."

Screaming with rage, Angora sprang from the ground and threw herself at Sean. Expecting her attack, Sean stood calmly and opened his mouth as a scream unlike any ever heard before tore from his throat. The scream hit her solidly, tearing through her body before slamming her completely against the wall. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth and her eyes rolled back in her head as her body fell forward into Ethan's ready arms.

"Is she—?" Angelo risked asking.

Sean shook his head slowly. "No matter th' circumstances, X-Men dinnae kill. Th' lass'll be out for awhile. Long enough t' figure out how t' explain this t' th' police. Are ye lads okay?"

"Yeah, but what about Michael's astral form?" Ethan asked.

"Ah think he somehow used Angora's mind as a bridge between th' dream world an' th' real world. With Angora's power gone, that bridge disappeared, so th' lad's astral form returned t' his body. At least, that's what Emma explained," Sean said as he tapped his temple.

"So it's over then," Angelo stated with a sign of relief.

Sean shook his head regretfully. "Ah wish Ah could say for sure. But there's more mutants like Anne out there. Ah have a feeling that this won't be th' last scuffle we get into. Let's get back t' th' school."

V.

Back in the Nightmare World, a painful wail tore from Angora. Staggering as if she had been physically hit, she seethed, "You've ruined everything!" Her dark, accusing eyes darted back and forth among Gaia, Lily, Jono, Monet, and Michael, who simply stood watching.

She continued, despite her strained voice, "Everyone was supposed to feel my pain—my anguish. Oh! Camille! Jean-Luc! Nooooo!" As if a bright star were bursting out of her, rays of light began to break through small spots in her skin. The rays quickly multiplied and intensified until Angora's astral form was enveloped in the bright luminescence. The teens had to shield their eyes until after the final stellar explosion dispersed the light and her painful wail.

"She's gone," Lily said as she uncovered her eyes and stared at the place Angora was just standing. She shook her head remorsefully as she said, "She thought I was her daughter. She just wanted her family back. I—I wish we could've done something for her."

_"There's nothin' we could've done for the gel. She let 'er pain an' misery control 'er. Bad things 'appen to everyone. But sometimes, you've just gotta move past it,"_ Jono said. Hearing his own words, made him think of the incident that left him without a face and chest. Maybe he was doing the same thing—holding on to the past without ever really getting over it.

"Gaia, I think you were right in the beginning," Michael mentioned. "Angora really was nothing more than a lost, old woman. I think that we did what we could do for her right now—stopped her from making things worse by hurting other people."

"Shouldn't Nightmare be making his usual grand entrance?" Monet mentioned.

As if on cue, the sound of pounding hooves echoed throughout the castle before Nightmare, riding on his demonic stallion, appeared high in the air. Just as before, the horse galloped on the air as if it were solid ground until it reached the teens. Rearing back with a guttural neigh, the horse stood eying the teens as Nightmare slid off.

"I must say, I'm impressed. I didn't think you'd get the hag outta my place," Nightmare glanced around, nodding in approval, making mental notes of the things Angora altered.

Michael used what strength he had left to frown. "Didn't think we'd come through? So what, you were sending us to Angora like lambs to the slaughter?!"

Nightmare shrugged as he continued with his visual survey. "Well, I mean if you want to put it so simply—"

"You're nothing but a scrawny bastard," Michael seethed, though the edge in his voice was totally gone, replaced by a weary whisper.

"Tsk. Tsk. Name-calling isn't a good way to make nice with the guy that makes your nightmares."

"Soulless monster! You have your hellish realm back. Let us go!" Gaia shot.

"Fine. And I thought you were having fun in my little Nightmare World."

"And don't forget about our teacher, or did you think we didn't know?" Monet asked with a cocked brow.

Opening his shirt, revealing a dark void, Emma flew out and into Jono's arms. Coughing, Emma took deep breaths as she felt her strength returning.

"Dear, Emma. I must thank you again for your assistance. Don't worry, I'll keep our little secret," he said with a wink. "And kiddies, I'll see you in your nightmares." With a wave of his hand, a glowing circle appeared underneath them and pulled them down before they could protest.

In the next second, the students and Emma tumbled from a glowing circle of light that appeared right below the ceiling of the living room. As they landed on the floor, Emma could feel the oppressive cloud hovering over the entire town disappearing.

As sunlight began to stream through the windows, they realized the horror was over. Angora had been defeated.

VI.

Now seated in her office, Emma reflected on the entire situation with Adrienne and Angora. She had fallen into a horrible trap sprung by Nightmare in order to protect her students. And in the end, she was willing to hand Adrienne over to a monster to save them. But where was her limit? How far was she willing to go? And would she ultimately push away her students because of her actions?

These were questions that Emma couldn't answer today. And probably not tomorrow either. Those questions took a backseat to the burning thought at the forefront of her mind—what do her students think of her now?

Nightmare had possessed her and used her to defeat her students, ruthlessly attacking and subduing them, both new students and old. And honestly, the entire situation rested on her shoulders, which ultimately endangered the school. She couldn't bear to face anyone now, and much to her dismay, Sean was approaching her office.

Sean slipped in the door and sat down in the chair squarely in front of her desk. He didn't think that Emma would want to talk, so he sat there quietly, waiting.

"I'm ruined with the students, Sean," Emma said, surprising herself that she actually said so. Then the words continued to pour, "They have no reason to trust me. And frankly, I wouldn't trust me either." She kept her gaze toward the window as she spoke to Sean. Despite the clarity of the night sky, the stars and bright moon didn't even draw a second glance from her. In her dim reflection, Emma could see the replay of her ruthlessly attacking every student in the school, scenes that would haunt her for the rest of her life. "I never wanted this to happen."

"Ach! An' no one thinks ye did," Sean replied. "Nightmare tends t' be a wily fellow. He tricked ye, that's all there is t' it. Even th' best o' us sometimes make mistakes. Ah thought Ah could help ye out, but Ah chose the wrong way t' do it. As long as we learn from them, mistakes aren't a bad thing."

Turning back toward Sean, she licked her blue eyes with his. "My last mistake ended up with the lives of students taken. This one probably cost me the little bit of trust that they have in me."

"We're in a dangerous line o' work, Emma. Sometimes, we're more vulnerable than we like t' think. All we can do now is pick up th' pieces an' move on. I think on some level, th' kids know that."

Emma sometimes wondered what made Sean tick. Though at times he seemed aloof, there were other times that he could have been a psychic from the way that he knew exactly what to say when she needed to hear it. Feeling only slightly reassured, she said, "Here I am, prattling on about my woes. About Moira…my condolences."

"Aye. Ah appreciate it. Ah'm still tryin' t' absorb th' fact that she's gone. I ne'er got th' chance t' say goodbye."

"For what it's worth, I don't think she wouldn't have wanted you to. She's still in your heart, so she hasn't really gone anywhere."

"Yuir right."

"So where do we go from here?"

"We go t' bed an' wake up t'morrow t' enjoy another day that we're blessed t' have. An' th' kids'll do th' same. Ah've already talked with them, an' though they're a bit pissed with ye, they'll be good in the mornin'."

"You could have left out the part that they were pissed at me."

"Ye needed t' hear it. Ethan, Angelo, Paige an' Rico were quite upset and vocal at th' stunt Ah pulled."

"Isn't it usually the students that get in trouble with the teachers? Not the other way around."

"If ye ask Charles, he'll say that we're all still learnin' and growin'. An' that we're all students in his eyes."

"Sometimes, I think we can learn a thing or two from our kids."

"Yeah. Ah think so too," Sean stood and stretched. "Ah'm headin' t' bed. Ye should do th' same."

"I will. And, Sean…thanks."

"Eh," Sean waved over his shoulder as he walked out of the office. Emma couldn't help but to smile, despite everything that happened. Sean was right, tomorrow was a new day. She would deal with the consequences of her actions and move on, because she had students to take care of, to ensure that they didn't make the same mistakes that she did.

Yes, tomorrow was a new day. And Emma was ready for it.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional


	20. Breaking and Entering

I.

At two o'clock in the morning, the usually lively streets of Snow Valley were completely empty, which suited Graylon Walsh just fine. To him, it meant that there was no one to witness the slew of crimes he was about to commit.

Sprinting low, he streaked across the street, hurdled a line of shrubs, and then pressed himself against the rough brick wall of the Snow Valley Police Department, keeping his breaths steady and quiet. Taking a quick glance around to make sure he was still alone, Graylon turned his attention to the window leading into a darkened back room. The basement window rested only inches above the ground, but was just large enough for Graylon to slip through. Perfect.

With a thought, his right hand morphed, his fingers extending into sharp, curved claws. A single slash tore through the bars and crisscrossed wires on the outside of the window, and Graylon carefully slid it open and scurried in feet-first, all in a matter of seconds. He hit the floor while at the same time scanning the room for any witnesses or danger.

Boxes lined the floor-to-ceiling shelves, which made him instantly think of the large maze that college students put white lab rats through. A thin layer of dust covered mostly everything in the storage room, and a healthy amount of dirt had gathered on the floor, along with cobwebs in the corners, which was a stark contrast to the almost sanitary public hallways. So he could see why no one lingered down here any longer than they absolutely had to.

Satisfied he was alone, Graylon sneaked across the floor, maneuvering around the shelves until he found the exit. Cracking it slowly, he peered out through the narrow opening, surveying the immediate area. Two hallways and a staircase branched off from his location, all surprisingly empty. Usually, the Snow Valley Police Department was swarming with officers, even at night. However, he figured that most were out at the hospital, having responded to the suspect situation that had originated from there.

Though Graylon wished he was at the hospital to investigate the rather sketchy details, he had other priorities. Besides, he was sure that his rival, Alicia Vargas, was already there, taking advantage of his obvious absence. If he found what he was looking for quickly, he may still be able to interview a few of the officers in the dying aftermath. Only _if_ he found what he was looking for.

Double-checking to make sure no one was in the hallway, he slipped out of the room and moved cautiously down the hallway, his ears alert and eyes continually scanning his front and back. And just as he suspected, within a few moments, he heard voices floating from around the corner a few feet in front of him.

_Dammit! I can't get caught now!_

Graylon took a few quieted steps forward and found an office with a nameplate for Elias Raymond. _Bingo!_

He internally rejoiced as he turned the knob, sank into the darkness of the office, and slowly closed the door behind him. He stayed pressed against the door, listening until the voices had passed, and then maneuvered to the desk and computer, thankful for his ability to see clearly in the dark.

Sliding into the plush leather chair, he jiggled the mouse to turn off the screen-saver, thankful that Elias hadn't locked his computer, then scanned the icons on the desktop. Familiar with the police databases and software from various interviews with policemen, he found the personnel database easily, brought it up, and typed in the name _Laroché_.

With only a few clicks, he pulled up Levi Laroché's information, which included his relatives—in particular his daughter, Mina. When Kiana first mentioned the last name, Graylon recognized it from a financial scandal about six months ago. Because Levi was arrested, his information would be in the master police database, which the Snow Valley Police Department obviously had access to.

Reading through the information, he wasn't surprised to see that the financial scandal involved the Arminthorpe Corporation. Somehow, the Laroché Bioengineering Corporation was intertwined with Arminthorpe, and funds were being misappropriated. Strangely enough, the police report was ambiguous at best, and didn't give him any more information than he had gathered from the Daily Bugle database.

In fact, the Daily Bugle database was especially lacking in information regarding this case. Something involving international corporations should have had plenty of coverage, but unsurprisingly, the stories were limited, and it was quickly hushed up within the news realm.

"Obviously, we've got something here that links Mina to the Corporation. Maybe they're an extended arm of the department Niles used to work in," Graylon mumbled aloud. But if that were true, it also meant that there could definitely be more to Niles Cain's disappearance than just mere coincidence. The Corporation had to be responsible, but what did they have to gain from kidnapping him?

Saving his questions for later, he hurriedly copied the information on Levi Laroché and his company to his thumb drive. He figured any good bit of information on Laroché would push the Generation X kids in the right direction. And it would also show that he was serious about helping them. Granted, he wasn't going to tell them how he got the information. He was sure that some of them would frown on breaking and entering, snooping through police records, and essentially stealing documents from the station.

Once the copying finished, he slipped the drive back into his pocket, glanced over the desk to make sure he hadn't disturbed anything, then crept back across the office to the door. Cracking it open and looking down the hallway, Graylon cursed as he saw Elias Raymond heading down the hallway with Chief Dan Authier. And they were surely heading straight for the office he was in.

_Stay calm_, Graylon told himself. He couldn't afford to panic, since Chief Authier had psychic powers and would easily pick up frantic thought patterns. Instead, he focused on putting up psychic shields that hopefully the Chief wouldn't detect, then scanned the office for a place to hide. There was no way that he would be able to talk his way out of being in a police officer's office at two in the morning. Especially because he was a reporter.

There were a few places he could have hidden, but Graylon chose the wall locker against the opposite wall. It was a bad choice, he knew, but the best choice considering it was the farthest place away from the desk, and he could hide there for a duration of time without getting cramped up and inadvertently giving himself away.

He took quieted steps across the office then stepped carefully into the dark wood wall locker, closing the door behind him just as Dan and Elias walked into the office.

"I don't understand what happened at the hospital, Chief. I mean, I took down what the Irish guy said, but it just seemed too crazy to believe. A woman in a coma somehow put everyone in the hospital to sleep and attacked the Cassidy guy and the two kids he was with, all because her husband and daughter were killed years ago? I swear, those people from Xavier's cause more trouble around here than any other criminals around this area."

Dan shook his head as he leaned against the wall. "The people from Xavier's didn't cause this. If anything, they helped stop whatever was going on. If not for them, there's no telling what would have happened to this town."

"Yeah, yeah. I guess I'm the only anti-Xavier's supporter here."

"You and ninety-nine percent of this town," Dan commented as a frown formed on his usually friendly face.

"If they weren't so secretive and didn't act like vigilantes, maybe people would start to trust them. Hell, maybe we could even work together. But they act so exclusive, like they're above the law. Just because that Cassidy guy worked for Interpol, that doesn't mean he can just do his own thing."

Dan shook his head. "They have good intentions, Elias. A little misguided at times, but good intentions."

"And you know what they say about good intentions, Chief," Elias quipped as he tapped out a few more keystrokes. He paused to ask, "Why do you always give them the benefit of the doubt?"

"Because no one else does."

Elias mumbled something as his fingers once again flew over the keyboard. He just wished that for once, when it came to Xavier's, he could understand their side. But Chief was a cop too—a damn good one. Everyone respected Dan's work ethic and valued his leadership. But Xavier's was becoming a slight sticking point with some of the force. And Elias figured Dan had to see it, so why wasn't he on their side?

"It's not about taking sides, Elias," Dan answered, surprising Elias. It was only after he spoke that he had inadvertently read Elias's mind. It was too late to backtrack, so he continued, "We're here to capture the criminals, the ones that are committing crimes. If we start condemning people that are doing their best to handle what we can't, we're going to find ourselves face-to-face with someone like Magneto. And trust me, no one in this department can stand up to that guy."

What the Chief said made sense. In a way. Elias couldn't staunchly disagree, so he just gave a reluctant, "I guess." He brushed through his dark hair with his hand then took a deep breath. "I just feel like they're always one step ahead of us. It makes me feel like I can't do my job without someone from Xavier's hovering around or being involved. Why don't they simply work with us?"

"The same way ninety-nine percent of this force doesn't trust them, it's no surprise that on some level, they don't trust us either—"

A muffled thump from inside of the oak wall locker on the other side of the room caught Dan by surprise, cutting off the rest of his sentence. Elias froze too, his ears perked and eyes keen as he searched for the source of the noise. After a few moments, another thump sounded, and the two men gave each other a curious glance. Dan made the first move towards the wall locker, taking slow deliberately silenced steps, while Elias stood and moved his hand to his holster.

Dan glanced back, his serious, light-brown eyes settling on Elias for only a second then focusing on the wall locker. Still keeping quiet, he reached for the handle, took a quick breath, and threw open the door. He barely threw his hands out in time to catch a falling figure.

"Oh!" Graylon moaned. "What…happened…? Chief…Authier?" he stammered as his blue eyes darted around. He pushed his shaggy blond hair out of his paled face as he regained his footing with a little help from Dan.

"And just what the hell are you doing in here?!" Elias shot, unmindful of Graylon's obviously confused state.

Dan held up a calming hand. "Just give the kid a moment," he said as he assisted Graylon to a metal folding chair. Only when Graylon was seated did Dan ask, "So what happened? How did you get in there?"

Graylon took a deep breath and swallowed. "I don't know if I should say. I don't want to get anyone in trouble."

"No one's going to get in trouble. We just want to know how you ended up here."

"Well, I…it's kind of hazy now…"

Elias rolled his eyes. "Give me a friggin' break."

Dan shot him a silencing glance then turned back to Graylon. "Take your time," he patiently suggested.

Graylon nodded, taking another deep breath before answering. "I came here to do an interview because of the hospital situation. But when I got here, the officers were kind of rowdy about Xavier's. When they saw me, they started getting riled up about my story a few months back—"

"Yeah, about the ineffective tactics and policies of the S.V.P.D.," Elias icily clarified.

"Right. That story," Graylon sheepishly replied. Regaining his composure, he continued, "Well, obviously, they weren't fans. Before I realized what was happening, they overpowered me and locked me in this closet. To teach me a lesson, I guess. I really didn't know the officers that well, and with everything happening so fast, I really don't know that I would be able to point them out."

Elias crossed his arms unsympathetically. "They should've done more than that to you, brat."

Graylon responded tiredly, "Look, I'm not here to argue with you. I'm a reporter and doing my job just like you."

"Except you're constantly undermining our job."

Dan held up a silencing hand. "This isn't the time or the place. Are you hurt, Graylon?"

"Nothing a little rest won't fix, Chief. Thanks for asking," Graylon shot a look toward Elias as if to say, _you should have been asking about my welfare too._

Elias caught the pointed glance and muttered something rude under his breath that Graylon couldn't quite decipher.

"Elias," Dan said, feeling the tension in the room, "go ahead and finish filing the report from the hospital. I'll escort Graylon out, if he's okay to walk." He waited for an affirmative nod from Graylon before helping him to his feet and letting him exit in front.

As Dan walked out, Elias mouthed, "He's lying!"

Dan smiled and shook his head. "Benefit of the doubt," he mouthed back before he took a few quick steps to walk alongside Graylon.

Graylon kept himself calm as they walked, afraid that if he said anything else, his cover story would be completely blown. Up to this point, it seemed that the Chief and Elias had bought his haphazardly planned story, which wasn't really all that far-fetched. He got the information he needed and was mere moments from walking right out of the front door of the police station without even slightly being found out.

Beaming on the inside, Graylon kept his expression neutral as they walked through the hallways. Only a few more feet, and he would be well on his way back home to figure out how to use this data to his advantage. And how to present it to Kiana and Vanessa to gain their trust. If he was going to save Niles Cain, he needed the kids from Xavier's, even though he really didn't like the idea in the least.

"You know," Dan mentioned as they neared the front doors, "there's not a lock on that wall locker."

Graylon's heart skipped a beat and his head spun. _Dammit! Why didn't I notice that before!_ He gave a wan smile and weakly replied, "Oh. Really?"

Dan only nodded with a knowing smile, which elicited a nervous response from Graylon. "Ha! Not sure how I got trapped in there. Guess I just panicked. You know, with it being dark and everything. I mean, those guys were pretty rough too. Ha!"

Dan stopped walking and faced him. "Just like I told the other students at Xavier's, if you need help with this, you need to involve the police. These vigilante tactics are only going to get you all hurt."

Graylon knew his façade had failed. "Guess my psychic shields didn't work."

Dan shrugged. "You're a decent liar, which is scary. But you can't lie to a psychic."

It was the first time that Graylon had heard the Chief explicitly say that he was a psychic. It was a well-circulated rumor that it was a strong possibility, considering the rate of success the Chief had with missing persons cases and tracking escaped criminals. Some people even thought that he worked part-time for a special unit within the FBI that relied heavily on psychics. But he was sure that was just a plot to a novel series and nothing more. But hearing the Chief validate the rumors only increased the number of questions Graylon had for him.

But right now, he was more concerned with getting this information back to Xavier's. And his chances of success had just flattened down to almost zero. Graylon defended his actions, "The police can't touch any of these mega-corporations, and you know that. Niles Cain's disappearance is going to be swept under the rug just like the Laroché Bioengineering Corporation scandal. Mason Arminthorpe and his corporation are untouchable within the confines of the law. The only way we're going to find Niles is through vigilante tactics as you call them."

Dan shook his head regretfully. "You're just kids. You're going to get hurt."

"We're kids that wield dangerous power, Chief. Trust me, if anyone can stand up to the Corporation and will live to tell about it, it's us."

"Us? So you're joining up with the Xavier students? I'm surprised, especially when—"

Graylon interjected, "Like I would just sit by and trust them to get Niles back. I don't care about the fallout. There are some things that can't stay hidden forever."

"You and Michael are just alike," Dan replied, "hiding your powers because of what you think others are going to think. It's a part of who you are and hiding it doesn't change that."

Graylon averted his eyes. "Yeah. Right."

Dan didn't want to get into another lecture, so he decided to leave the topic alone. Instead, he said, "So, I expect a full payment for the basement window covering that you tore through. Okay?"

Shocked, Graylon's eyes widened. "Damn. You know about that too? Look, Chief, I had to get this information. It's the only way I can get them to trust me. I'm a reporter, and people tend to automatically mistrust me."

"Yeah, especially the people who you continually portray as reckless, dangerous recluses. But breaking the law doesn't make you anymore trustworthy."

Graylon sighed, annoyed with himself. "Well, when you put it like that, I guess I really can't argue."

"I'll help you as much as I can, but you have to come to me. I don't expect to have you or anyone else from Xavier's breaking into my police department again, or you might be spending a night or two doing your reporting from inside a jail cell."

Graylon felt his face burn hot with embarrassment. "I wasn't trying to break the law. I just needed this information. Without it, we don't have an in."

Dan thought for just a moment, letting him simmer in his uneasiness. He then said, "Take what you need from the thumb drive then return it to me by tomorrow afternoon, and I'll consider this a partnership between us and your investigation. Got it?"

Graylon nodded as his eyes fell. _So much for being sneaky,_ he thought as he turned and headed outside, grateful for the cool breeze on his face. Pulling the thumb drive out of his pocket, he stared at it for just a second. _This is the connection Kiana and Vanessa are looking for. Now, maybe we can start looking for Niles._

Though his plan had failed in several regards, Graylon got what he came for. Now, his next challenge would be getting the Xavier kids to let him into the fold. And he already knew that wasn't going to be easy.

II.

"Ma'am, I hate to be the bearer of bad news," the voice on the other end of the line began. Emma sighed internally as she impatiently waited for the nasally male voice to continue with the information she already knew. "Your sister, Adrienne, was found this morning in her office in an unrecoverable catatonic state. The doctors haven't seen anything like it before, but she's being transferred to Bellevue Hospital in New York."

Emma said nothing, not trusting the sincerity of any words of shock or surprise. Instead, she gave a simple gasp and _oh_ before falling silent again.

"In addition," the man continued, "your father has chosen to allow Frost International to absorb Meridian Enterprises."

"Oh!" she exclaimed with genuine surprise and a raised eyebrow. It was an unexpected move, especially because she hadn't talked to her father, Winston Frost, in years. Literally. Her father ran the family like he ran his businesses—ruthless, cold, and with an iron fist. She didn't have fond memories of her time at home and did her best to keep those memories locked deep within her own head.

Adrienne was always Winston's favorite because she was more like him than any of the Frost siblings. Emma was always second-best to her, almost an outcast black sheep of the family, which is why she couldn't figure out why her father had made such a decision.

The man gave a slight chuckle. "Yes, it surprised us too, but he made it adamant that this was to happen as expeditiously as possible. We're taking care of the legal issues as well as the extensive documentation that accompanies such a large merger. Honestly, you don't have anything to worry about, Miss Frost. And considering your sister's condition, I'm sure that you want to spend time with her and not doing paperwork."

"Not really," Emma nonchalantly replied. "My sister and I aren't close."

"I apologize. I just assumed—"

"And we know about people who assume, right? Thank you for the information and please keep me informed daily on the status of the merger through my corporate e-mail." Without waiting for another word, she hung up the phone and turned her gaze to the blue sky outside the window of her office.

_ Did I do the right thing? Did I ultimately save the lives of my students?_

Those two questions burned brightly within her mind once again, as they had for the past twenty-four hours. Though she had apparently saved them from Adrienne's scheme, she had subjected her students to Nightmare's twisted intentions, unwittingly endangering them. And that was something that ultimately, she couldn't forgive herself for.

But that was a guilt that Emma would bear, just as she shouldered many other mistakes in her life. Right now wasn't the time to get lost in self-pity and doubt. Standing up, she straightened her shoulders, regained the flare in her eye, and strode out of her office. Regardless of what happened before or what the future held, she would ensure that her students had the opportunity to make a difference in this world. And nothing would stop her from securing their future. No matter what.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional

The FBI reference Graylon makes regarding Dan working for a special unit within the FBI is a reference to the Noah Bishop series written by Kay Hooper.

– I wholeheartedly appreciate the review. The story doesn't seem to be getting much love from the masses, but I have a story to tell, so I'm going to keep going. Your reviews are definitely encouraging, and I'll keep up the good work, even if it's just for you!


	21. Breakfast at Mac's

I.

"Ugh! Jono, why do ya hav'ta like leave yer junk everywhere?" Jubilee scrunched her nose as she dangled a pair of worn pants in front of Jono's face. With an exaggerated _yuck_, she dropped the clothing right in Jono's lap, then flopped on the couch adjacent to his chair.

Jono frowned, still a new gesture for him, as he straightened the pants. _"It's not like you 'ave to pick up after me. 'Sides,"_ he pretended to take a long whiff, _"these jeans were clean."_

"Like mad gross, Jono. They totally reeked. Seriously," she retorted. Jubilee rolled her eyes then snatched the remote as she propped her hot pink Converse All-Stars on the coffee table. She blew a bubble the same color then sucked it back into her mouth.

"I'm not making breakfast!" Vincent's angry voice rounded the corner several seconds before he appeared, his usual scowl etched into his face. He marched past the living room and stopped short of the front door, turning to confront his chore-maker. Jubilee and Jono stopped moving completely, waiting to see what would happen next.

"It's your turn to make a meal," Paige strode from the hallway Vincent had just come from, her blond ponytail bobbing in time with her hastened pace to keep up with him. "I don't know what kind of household you came from, but we share the load around here." She stopped within a few feet of Vincent and crossed her arms, signifying that she wasn't going to back down.

He narrowed his icy blue eyes which contrasted dramatically against his fire-red hair. "I don't cook."

"I hate to jump in," Rico grinned as he strode from the kitchen with a glass of orange juice, "but you probably want to trust him on this one. His cooking will leave you hurting for days." He patted his stomach soothingly as he shook his head sympathetically. "I only made that mistake once. Never again."

"Shut up!" Vincent snapped, his cheeks burning. His eyes flashed angrily as they darted between Paige and Rico. "I told you I didn't cook!"

"Like what is the sitch? Are ya gonna like drown out my fave show ever? Or are we gonna totally use our quiet, indoor voices?" Jubilee shot from her spot on the couch.

"I'm simply trying to divide up the chores fairly," Paige patiently explained. "But Vincent," she punctuated his name with a sharp glare, "doesn't want to pull his weight."

"Put him on bathroom duty. That will make him a bit more agreeable," Michael Lawson, dressed in jeans and a light green button-down shirt, suggested in as he descended the stairs. He stopped at the bottom, noticing a random, lone sock lying there.

Vincent's eyes flared, along with the temperature of the room, kicking it up two degrees. "I knew you'd have something to say."

It wasn't a secret that Vincent and Michael weren't friends in the slightest, though no one knew exactly why they were at such odds with one another. And it seemed Michael never missed a beat when it came to correcting or chastising him. Conversely, Vincent's temper always surged and escalated the situation to the point of no return.

"Now, now. No bloodshed on the Persian rugs," Emma chided from the kitchen. Stepping into the doorway, her pristine white business pants suit almost gleamed in the sunlight. Her ruby lips curled into a knowing smile as she spoke, "Had I known you all were going to wage war on each other over chores, I would've intervened a long time ago. Everyone," she paused both for effect and to step to the side as a tall, muscular, older gentleman emerged from the kitchen. His graying goatee and closely-cropped hair were perfectly in place, and his clothes, a dark vest, slacks, and long-sleeved shirt with a tie were pressed perfectly. "This is Mr. Robert Noble, our new butler."

Jubilee's attention had been stolen from the television as she visually inspected the new guy. "Like wow. We totally have our very own Mr. Belvedere. What's up, Mr. B?!" she waved from her spot on the couch.

"No, he's like Alfred! You know, what's-his-face's butler!" Rico excitedly pointed out.

Michael disagreed. "Nah. I think he's more of a Jarvis type."

"Spare me every butler reference you were even remotely thinking of saying," Emma said, rolling her eyes impatiently. "Since you children have difficulty with maintaining a semblance of a cleanly environment, I've hired someone to not only keep this place spotless, but to keep you children in line from that aspect."

"We don't need a butler," Paige firmly said. "No offense, Mr. Noble," she quickly added, to which he gave a slight acknowledging nod. "But back on the farm, we did everything ourselves. There's no reason why we can't all pitch in and keep this place tidy."

"A valid point indeed, Paige. And if I had the time to follow all of you around like a mother hen, ensuring you all did your chores, I still wouldn't do it. Besides, I would hate for Charles to come and visit and stumble upon Angelo's dirty socks left by the stairs."

"Good point." Michael focused his willpower easily and picked up the sock telekinetically, floated it across the room, and then draped it carefully over Angelo's face as he slept. As the tart odor crept into his nose and mouth, his eyes shot open and he yanked the sock from his face, completely bewildered as to how his sock got off his foot and onto his face.

"Which is why Mr. Noble has been hired as a permanent part of the faculty here." Continuing with the introduction, Emma stated, "He's here to keep the common areas presentable, as well as meal preparation. Your rooms are your own domain, so he won't touch them. But I do expect you kids to start living a little cleaner," she added the last sentence, giving Paige a look that said she was being addressed especially.

"Yeah, Hayseed," Jubilee gave Paige the same look that Emma had.

Paige's cheeks reddened slightly. "It's organized," she defended. "If you ask me where anything is, I'll you in two seconds flat."

Jono shook his head, amused by Paige's explanation. Having been in her room, he could attest that her room was a far cry from an organized mess. She was an intelligent, motivated girl, but when it came to her room, it seemed that she was still in the learning stages of keeping it together, despite her farm heritage.

Noticing Jono's smirk, Emma added, "Let's not even start on your room, Jono."

_"If I say it's an organized mess, does that get me off the 'ook too?"_ he asked.

Ignoring Jono's comment, Emma continued, "The same faculty rules apply to Mr. Noble as well. I don't expect any of you to have a problem with this. Please inform your teammates when they decide to roll out of bed. As for now, Sean and I have to head up to the mansion to pick up Dr. Reyes, as well as meet with the Professor. Tom will be bringing back the younger student body late this afternoon. I don't expect any trouble while we're gone, understood?"

"Sure, Frosty. We'll totally sit here like good little kiddies," Jubilee narrowed her eyes cynically as she spoke.

"Is that a hint of disrespect I hear in your voice, Jubilation?"

"Dude, we're not children. We can like take care of ourselves."

Heading for the door, Emma replied with a forced, patient breath, "We'll discuss the autonomy and independence of high school-aged children when I return. Sean's already waiting in the car. Robert, if you need anything, please give my phone a ring." As she grabbed the doorknob, she stopped for a split second, feeling a set of eyes burning into her. Without turning around, Emma asked telepathically, _"Do we need to talk Mr. Lawson?"_

_"Not at all, Ms. Frost,"_ Michael coldly responded, only now realizing how hard it was to mask internal feelings when talking telepathically. But he honestly didn't care at this point. He was angry and, he wanted to make damn sure Emma knew exactly where he stood. However, he really didn't want to get into a lengthy conversation—no, probably lecture—with her. But he knew that it couldn't be avoided for too much longer. Hoping to skirt out of it for now, he said aloud, "See you when you get back, Ms. Frost." His attempt to sound cheery fell flat.

Without a reply or second glance, Emma left. Michael's brown eyes stayed focused on the door even after Emma was miles away, his mind racing through what exactly he would say when Emma confronted him. That he thought she had pushed him too far in Nightmare World? That he was scared of his own powers? That he didn't want to inadvertently hurt anyone?

No matter how he shaped it, Michael couldn't even convince himself, let alone anyone else. The abilities he displayed were suddenly easy feats, and something inside of him wanted more—to totally cut loose. And that's what really scared him the most.

"Dude, what was that about?" Angelo asked, now awake on his place on the couch.

Pushing his thoughts aside, Michael weakly smiled. "Nothing. Well, since we've got some free time, why don't we go into town for breakfast? I'm pretty sure everyone's awake."

"I guess that would take care of the breakfast issue," Paige reluctantly agreed, still stuck on her disagreement with Vincent. He simply scowled in response.

"Now that sounds like a good idea, amigo," agreed Angelo.

Jubilee thought for a second. "Hey, didn't Mac's Diner start servin' breakfast? That'd be like a good place ta check out."

"Sounds good to me," Rico chimed in.

However, Robert cleared his throat abruptly, drawing everyone's attention. "Just in case you weren't aware, my job is to ensure you have nutritious, complete meals—"

"And we totally will," Jubilee waved off his objection. "So don't get all like hot under tha collar 'n stuff."

Michael saw Robert's eyebrows furrow and his jaw tighten. To smooth things over, he said, "Mr. Noble, this is the last weekend before school starts, so we just want to take advantage of it. Trust me, we'll be more than glad to eat our fair share of your cooking, which I'm sure will be top-notch." He punctuated his explanation with a smile, which succeeded in softening Robert's expression a bit.

Jono added, _"'Sides, it'll keep Paige and Vincent from killin' each other over chores."_

"Whatever," they both replied simultaneously.

"Mike's totally right," Jubilee said. "Since ya jus' got here, ya can get all like settled in. And Ange here eats nonstop, so ya don't have ta like worry about not havin' anythin' ta do later."

Robert's expression softened another fraction. "Well, I suppose—"

"Guys!" Jubilee shouted, surprising everyone. "We're like headin' to Mac's Diner in ten. Get down here or get left!"

"That's one way to get everyone down here," Michael smiled. Again, using minimal effort, he simply thought about broadcasting his inner words outward. _"Everyone, meet down here in ten minutes. We're heading out to breakfast,"_ he telepathically announced to every student.

Jubilee grinned. "Hey, you like pulled tha ol' telepathic intercom thingy that ol' Frosty loves ta do. You're shapin' up ta be a useful X-Man, not like ol' Drake."

"Umm…thanks, I think," Michael replied, unsure if Jubilee was complimenting his talents or just saw him as a convenient telepathic loudspeaker.

Rico's eyes lit up at Jubilee's comment, interrupting anything else Michael had to say. "Are you talkin' about Bobby Drake? Like Iceman Bobby Drake?" He drew in closer to her, as if being near would somehow make Bobby appear before them.

Jubilee blew a pink bubble, smaller than last time, and rolled her eyes. "Don't get all like swoony-eyed over him. He's not _that_ cool."

Rico's face reflected nothing but anticipatory glee. "He's definitely cool…he's tIceman. One of the original five X-Men. We've gotta take a field trip up there. The X-Men…I definitely want to meet them in person." Even now, he could feel his heart racing at the thought of meeting the well-known team of mutant superheroes.

"I'm sure you'll get the chance," Paige smiled, remembering her own nervousness every time she met the X-Men before she joined the school. Even now, she still felt a hint of awe when talking to them, especially Scott Summers or Ororo Munroe. "Most of them are really down-to-earth and easy to talk to," she responded, thinking about Jean Grey, Warren Worthington, and Hank McCoy.

_"But, mate,"_ Jono added, _"there are some that'll bite your 'ead off if you get too close, like Wolverine."_

Rico imagined the feral mutant with an impossibly wide mouth charging straight for him. "Yeah, that's kinda scary actually," he said in a hushed whisper, his excitement replaced by dread.

"Ya jus' gotta be chill with him, ya know? Wolvie and I get along jus' fine," Jubilee waved her hand in a dismissive manner. "Anyways, who's drivin'?"

"I call the X-5!" Ethan announced as he bounded down the stairs, followed closely behind by Lily, Everett, Kiana, and Vanessa. Gaia brought up the rear, purposefully keeping herself distant from Ethan.

Jubilee shot him a disapproving glance. "Like totally unfair. You can't just like call whatever vehicle ya want. There's like seniority here, bub. Ev, should totally get first choice." She turned her gaze toward Everett, who suddenly looked up as if he wasn't even aware of what was going on.

Everett shrugged, realizing that Jubilee expected him to say something since she intervened on his behalf. "It's not that big of a deal. I'll just take the RX-8. It's fun to drive anyways."

"Nice! I'm totally ridin' with Ev!" Jubilee jumped up from the couch and stood next to him. Though she told herself time and time again that she was over her crush, she still felt her heart flutter a bit every time she had the chance to be around him. But she had already decided to keep her feelings to herself at least for a while longer, especially since it seemed Everett was getting closer to Monet.

Paige pondered for a moment then said, "The Mazda's way too cramped. I think I'll ride with Ethan." She glanced over and noticed Jono's unreadable expression. Even though he had a full face now, for some reason, she found it even harder to discern his expressions. But then she chastised herself and quickly looked away. _Why should I care what he thinks?_

Monet brushed a long strand of dark, silken hair from her eyes. "My apparel is much too glamorous to be cramped inside of any vehicle. I shall simply fly there on my own." As if to bring attention to her outfit, she posed for a moment, showing off her Christian Dior halter-top dress with matching heels and handbag. The crème and sage ensemble complimented her body quite well, making her look more like a model than a student.

Jubilee's levity was replaced by a sour attitude and a scowl towards Monet. "Reality check, Miz Monet. Fact: we're only goin' ta breakfast…not a fashion show. Fact: ya can't just friggin' fly everywhere cause yer like bein' all stuck up. Fact: we don't need tha locals gettin' all riled up cause ya decided that ya were too good ta ride in a car—like the rest of us—and soarin' through tha air like a rocket or somethin'. Come on, weren't ya like listenin' when Banshee said that we totally shouldn't be usin' our powers all out in tha open like that?"

Monet raised a condescending eyebrow. "I have no compunctions about displaying the abilities I have been blessed with. Besides, you are the last person I appreciate being lectured by," she sharply retorted.

"But she's right," Everett interjected in after Jubilee's face scrunched up angrily. "I'm sure Emma and Sean don't want to turn on the news to see you flying over Snow Valley. Besides, the car ride will be fun—think of it as bonding time."

Monet sighed, resigning her argument. "I only acquiesce to circumvent further conversation on the topic and to expedite our departure for sustenance. Though the idea of bonding time has no appeal whatsoever for me."

Vanessa leaned close to Angelo, "You know, every time she talks, I'm impressed."

"Don't say that too loudly—her head will only get bigger," Angelo quietly responded, using his hands to exaggerate an oversized head.

Monet shot a glare toward Angelo and Vanessa. "I thought I mentioned my keen sense of hearing among the plethora of other qualities I possess."

Jubilee promptly cut in. "Ya forgot to mention humility. Oops, that's right, ya don't have any!"

Grinning and taking the attention off of Monet, Angelo announced, "I'm takin' Sean's jeep if anybody wants to ride!"

Ethan warned, "If he's been taking driving lessons from Sean, you guys had better make sure you're strapped in tight."

"Hey, I'm not scared of a few wild turns, so count me in, hombre!" Rico and Angelo gave each other a sound high-five. "Vinnie, you should get in on this…this is the like super bad-ass guy jeep."

_"Count me in too, mate,"_ Jono leaped to his feet and stretched his legs. He could feel Paige looking at him again, but he purposely avoided her unreadable glance. He had broken up with her, but still, Jono felt like there was something still there. Something that was slowly slipping away. But he didn't want to face it. Not now anyways.

"Well, I intend on breaking up your little guy club jeep," Kiana smiled. "I'm riding with you, Angelo."

"Hey! No girls allowed!" Rico shot with an overwhelming tone of defiance.

"Wow. I just had a flashback to elementary school," Michael commented with an amused smile.

Vanessa chuckled then turned to Michael. "Mike, mind if I take shotgun in the X-plorer?"

Michael turned and locked eyes with Vanessa. It was then that he noticed yet again how beautiful she was. Not like infatuation beautiful, but Vanessa could have been a model herself with her soft features and flawless, caramel skin. Her hazel eyes sparkled with interest as she smiled, almost as if she knew what he was thinking.

"Oh, yeah…no problem," he responded, suddenly realizing his face was burning hot. He avoided eye contact with Vanessa, afraid that he would somehow give away his growing crush.

"Someone's got the hots this morning!" Jubilee taunted with a mischievous smile.

Michael felt as thought he was going to melt right there on the spot. "Stop instigating! No one has the hots!" He turned to see Vanessa chuckling, but the sparkle of interest still shone in her eye, which made him smile, despite his embarrassment.

"I'd like to ride with Everett," Lily suggested. When Everett turned to her, Lily explained, "I want to get to know everyone, and I don't think that we've gotten the chance to talk since I got here."

Everett nodded in agreement. "Yeah, no problem. Actually, this is good. This is really a great time for everyone to get to know each other. It's not often that we have a day together like this."

Despite, Everett's encouraging words, Gaia could only concentrate on doing everything in her power to stay away from Ethan. "Everett, I shall accompany you in your chariot," she abruptly announced, surprising everyone.

"Chariot?" Vanessa sighed. "Gaia, it's a car. You have one. Don't give it strange names."

Gaia pulled her pink hair back into a ponytail. "I'm only speaking in the likeness of my Greek ancestors, have you forgotten?"

"I didn't forget that you chose the name out of a book," Rico mumbled.

Gaia's eyes flashed. "Did you say something unfavorable?"

"Nope. Let's go!" Rico bolted out of the door before Gaia could say anything else.

Robert watched as the teens piled out of the front door, throwing waves his way before disappearing out into the warm morning. He smiled to himself, realizing that this was going to be one of the most interesting jobs he had ever had.

II.

"Hey, what's up, Mac!" Jubilee called as she bounded into the Mac's Diner.

Patrick MacIntosh, the owner, referred to by most as simply Mac, shot a grin over his shoulder and a wave. "Jubilee! My favorite customer…how's it goin'? Looks like you brought a whole lotta business with ya." Though scruffy and solidly built, Mac's friendly eyes and smile softened his presence, while his amicable nature seemed to unconsciously incite conversation with his customers. He was well-known not only for the delicious menu options but also for his demeanor, which is what kept his customers coming back.

Jubilee explained, "I like heard that yer startin' ta serve breakfast. I figured we'd like come 'n check it out…give ya some food critic feedback, ya know?"

"Well, you're in luck. I just started it today, and you're my first customers. Since that's the case, I'll let you guys try some of the specialty stuff on the house."

"Totally awesome, Mac. Ya don't mind if we move the tables around, do ya?"

"Nah. Just put 'em back before you guys leave."

"Awesome!" Jubilee turned to Michael, who brought up the rear of the group coming into the diner. "Mike, care to do the honors? Mac said it's cool ta move the tables around."

"Yeah, but is it cool for me to move the tables around like that?" Michael asked, hinting at Everett's comment earlier about not using their powers out in public. The last thing that he wanted for them was unnecessary attention, especially now that they were in town.

Jubilee nodded reassuringly. "Mac's cool. He like knows about us and is totally cool with everything."

Mac waved from his place over the grill.

"Then, it's no problem," Michael said as he focused, using a little more effort than usual to carefully rearrange the tables and chairs quietly and neatly. The tables and chairs shifted and rotated according to his command, and when they stopped, Michael motioned for everyone to take a seat at their new, perfectly aligned mega-table.

"So, Jono, can ya eat now?" Jubilee asked, her brown eyes curiously scanning Jono's jawline, lips, and neck as she sat down.

"Jubilee!" Paige gasped, then blushed as she realized she had jumped to Jono's rescue. He didn't need her to rescue him. Not anymore.

"What?" she responded in a high-pitched, defensive tone. "I was jus' askin'. I mean, ya all were wonderin' the same thing. Besides," Jubilee directed towards Jono, "I jus' wanna make sure that we're not like being insensitive. If ya still can't eat, then it's kinda rude to drag ya out ta a restaurant. Ya know?"

_"I didn't know you cared, gel. My face is intact, but in 'ere,"_ Jono patted on his chest, _"is the same as it's always been. But I don't mind goin' out with the gang. Especially now since I don't 'ave to make excuses about wearin' a scarf. But I still 'ave to talk to everyone psionically, but I can move my mouth in time with it to look like I'm actually talking."_

"Dude. That's pretty cool," Rico said.

"So you've got Nightmare to thank for recreating your face?" Angelo asked.

_"I guess. I don't know exactly 'ow 'e did it. It was just there when we woke up, an' when we came back, it was still there. Tom 'n Hank couldn't explain it either. But I think I'm getting' the 'ang of my powers a bit better."_

"That's like what I heard. Except that ya got sniped by some flying thingy," Jubilee mentioned.

Everett took a drink of water. "Nightmare World? Sounds like I missed all the action." Jubilee had filled him in with some secondhand information, but no one actually involved had really said anything about it, which was strange, but Everett didn't want to press just yet.

Ethan replied, "Trust me, you were better off at your parents'. How are they?"

"They're good. Nate and Kim, my younger brother and sister, are growing fast. It was good to be back home for a bit. But I realized that I belong here too. You guys are like my extended family."

Vanessa said, "I hope you're not counting Emma in your extended family. She'd be like the evil stepmother. She always seems so intense and cold."

"Starting today," Jubilee mocked, "Everything changes. Psssh! Whatever. I've like got my eye on ol' Frosty. Ya know, she's been a little shaky lately. I mean, I know like Nightmare tricked her and stuff but c'mon! Isn't she like all experienced at this sorta thing? An X-Man totally wouldn't have fallen into that one. Fer sure."

"Please do not inundate us with yet another when-I-was-an-X-Man story," Monet rolled her eyes toward the ceiling and gave a silent yawn to punctuate her statement.

"Whatever," Jubilee countered. "Yer jus' jealous."

Rico cut in, "Well, I think your X-Men stories are cool. Seriously, when do you think we'll get to meet them?"

"I heard that they're going to be teaching some of our courses, so probably as soon as tomorrow," Ethan replied.

"Now's your chance," Lily leaned over and whispered to Gaia. Feeling that this was a great opportunity for Gaia and Ethan to become friends, Lily wanted to encourage and promote the mending of their friendship. "Just try to say something nice to Ethan."

Gaia cleared her throat and injected herself into the conversation. "Well, it seems that your eavesdropping skills and perpetual nosiness have gained some insight into our academic future," she beamed, impressed with her perceived cordial comment to Ethan. So, she couldn't understand why Ethan's face contorted into an expression of utter confusion and why Lily looked quite taken aback.

"What?!" Ethan managed to say after struggling with stunned silence.

Gaia answered, "Cretin—I mean, Ethan. I'm attempting to be nice, so return my gesture."

Ethan thought he had missed some important element of the conversation, but even after replaying it several times in his mind, he was still thoroughly confused. "What you said sounded more like an insult to me. So what exactly am I supposed to return?"

Lily leaned toward Gaia, hoping to fix the situation. Whispering, she said, "Maybe you should try another compliment."

Gaia cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders, a look of determination across her features. "It doesn't pain me to lay my eyes on you," she said, then set into an expectant glare.

Ethan shook his head in dismay. "Is that supposed to be a compliment too?"

Vanessa let a hollow chuckle escape. "Hey, she's trying. It's way better than what she said yesterday." As she envisioned slimy snakes writhing across her body, she shuddered and pushed the vivid comment from her mind.

Still not pleased, Gaia pointedly asked Ethan, "Aren't you going to at least say something nice back? Or have you returned to your molesting, cretin ways?"

Ethan's face dropped. "What?"

"Where did this conversation go wrong?" Kiana said after a drink of her orange juice. "Gaia, I thought we said—"

"I will hear no more from this cretin, lest my appetite dwindle," Gaia gave Ethan a dismissing wave as she fanned her face dramatically.

"Dios! Between you and Monet, I always feel like I missed some important English classes somewhere," Angelo complained, which incited laughter among the group.

The students of the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters were so caught up in their own excitement and conversation, they didn't notice another patron enter Mac's Diner and make his way directly to the counter.

Leaning on the white marble, Graylon smiled. "Morning, Mac."

"How's it goin', Graylon?" Mac greeted him with a smile, then turned his attention back to the grill. "I'm just about done with your usual. You takin' it to go?" Mac used a metal spatula to flip the eggs and bacon then pulled warm toast from the toaster.

From the back of Mac's diner, the sound of several voices floated to Graylon's ears. Peering toward the back, Graylon smiled as he quickly identified all of the students and tried to recall their individual abilities. Absently, Graylon replied, "Yeah. Bag it up for me, will you?"

"Sure thing. You friends with those kids?"

"I will be," Graylon answered with a knowing smile as he slowly made his way towards their table.

His back toward Graylon Walsh, Rico announced, "Hey, we're working on something pretty high-tech with Cerebra. Paige, you wanna tell them about the teleportation thing?"

Paige reddened slightly. "Rico and I are running a dimensional-spatial location search based on the start and end point of a teleportation energy signature."

"So is that what you guys do down there for kicks? I'll stick to the PS3," Angelo joked, which drew a few more giggles.

Seriously, Michael asked, "Why are you guys doing that?"

Paige's already red face managed to deepen several more shades. "We were talking, and…well…I'm just trying out something. I'd rather not get into the details of it right now." She really didn't want to tell them the real reason—that maybe Clarice Ferguson was actually alive and hadn't split herself into a million fragments like they had thought before. But if it didn't work, Paige didn't want everyone's hopes up. Lord knows that her own would be dashed if they didn't find anything. She didn't want anyone else going through that too.

"Ooooh. Some super–secret Cerebra experiment," Jubilee poked. "Next thing ya know, ol' Frankenstien is gonna come storming outta there."

Rico was amused. "What we can tell you is that I think I figured a way to replicate a teleportation energy signature through Cerebra."

"Really? It can do that?" Lily asked.

"Yeah. It manages to duplicate the—" Paige excitedly began.

"Whoa! Like total time out. Yer not gonna start geek-speakin' at breakfast. Totally save it fer the lab," Jubilee jokingly ruled.

Monet, having noticed Paige's discomfort earlier, changed the subject abruptly. "So," she directed to Michael, "are you going to reveal the intricate details of the emotionally tumultuous psi-conversation you and Emma exchanged?"

Michael's face burned. "Oh. You heard that?"

"Would you even pose such an inquiry, suggesting that someone of my ability would not detect such a brazen use of telepathic abilities?"

Jubilee blew out an exasperated breath. "Oh gawd. Here we like go with Monet bein' Miz Perfect again."

Feeling that another bickering session was brewing between Monet and Jubilee, Michael cut it off with his explanation. "I just felt that the situation with Angora was risky. I'm not even sure about my developing powers, and she kind of pushed me into the astral form thing."

Ethan shook his head. "We weren't in a good position. If you hadn't done what you did, there's no telling what would have happened. You may not have liked it, but you saved us."

"But what if I had faltered?" Michael asked, a bit more sharply than he meant. Softening his tone, he answered his own question. "I would have probably been brain-dead, you guys would have been fried, and everyone would have been stuck in an eternal nightmare. I guess I'm just not okay with the entire well-being of the city and school resting on my shoulders. I mean, like I said, I don't even really understand my powers. Everyone's mentioned it since I got here—my powers weren't this strong before. I wasn't that strong before. But now…I don't know."

"Ms. Frost isn't going to push us so far that we fail," Everett said, hoping to encourage him.

"Tell that to the Hellions," Jubilee mumbled, but it was loud enough for most at the table to hear.

"The Hellions? Who are they?" Michael asked. Though he asked, a pit formed in his stomach, and he suddenly felt as though he didn't really want to know.

Angelo said to Jubilee, "Jubes. That wasn't cool to bring up. Especially with the new guys."

"They're gonna find out eventually. It's not like a big ol' secret," Jubilee replied.

"So, is someone actually going to tell us about the Hellions?" Vanessa asked.

Monet leaned forward. "They are Emma's old group of students. Her past before us was quite…colorful. Her previous students were fatally wounded in a mêlée with Trevor Fitzroy, due to their rash, impetuous nature, which was fostered and encouraged by Emma. Back then, she only envisioned and pursued her own devious goals, never realizing the destructive path she had set them on."

"The death of the Massachusetts Academy students caused quite a stir back then," Graylon added with a knowing smirk, drawing the attention of all of the students.

"It's quite rude to eavesdrop on conversations that don't involve you, dear sir," Monet said, as she gave him a withering glare.

"Ugh! Blondie," Jubilee said, recognizing Graylon Walsh from television. "Like what are you doin' here? Tryin' ta get the next scoop ta throw us under the bus?" she verbally attacked.

Graylon's expression didn't change as he replied. "Don't be so self-centered. I've got better things to do than to throw you under the bus. Quite honestly, you do it to yourselves. Besides, I'm talking you all for one reason only—the Arminthorpe Corporation."

Rico shook his head in pity. "Your outta your league, hommes. We're not gonna be the source for your next exposé. Forget what you think you know, because trust me, you haven't even gotten the tip of the iceberg."

"Right," Graylon rolled his eyes. "Listen, Suavé, I'm not the type to stick my nose where it doesn't belong. Niles Cain was kidnapped, and nobody here seems to be doing a damn thing about it. Except you guys. Which is why I want in on your plan."

"Pssshh! You have got to be kidding me!" Jubilee exclaimed. "You're not just gonna like push your way into our sitch. It doesn't even involve you."

"Like hell it doesn't," Graylon snapped, surprising Jubilee.

Michael said, "He's right." He shifted in his chair to face Graylon. "We heard your voice on Dr. Cain's answering machine when we were investigating his house. So, you can tell us how and why you're involved, or I can simply pluck it from your head. And trust me, I won't do it gently." Of course he was bluffing, but Graylon didn't have to know that.

He crossed his arms in defiance. "Obviously, you don't know that Niles has family around here. I'm his nephew."

Michael couldn't immediately see a resemblance between the two. But the family connection would explain Graylon's message to Niles and his current concern.

"That doesn't give you a free pass to get in our way," Vincent shot. "Besides, what can you do besides talk into a mic and camera?"

"A lot more than you think, flamer."

"You wanna put it to the test?" Vincent threatened, as the air around him began to stir as it rose several degrees.

"Knock it off," Ethan quickly said, taking his role as leader alongside Everett. "We don't need a scene in this place. Graylon, unless you've got some reason for approaching us right here, right now, I would suggest that you go back to whatever you were doing before and leave us alone. When we find out something about your uncle, we'll let you know." His tone left no real room for argument, and Ethan thought the situation would dissipate, but Graylon held his ground.

"I'm not going anywhere. Besides, I have information on someone that you guys seem to be interested in."

"We asked him to find out information about Mina Laroché," Vanessa hastily explained, hoping to diffuse some of the tension. Though she wasn't particularly a fan of Graylon, if he actually had information on Mina Laroché, Vanessa was sure that Kiana would want to hear it. Glancing at Kiana, Vanessa noticed her focused expression now that Mina's name had come up.

"Which I did. Her father's a wealthy business man, having traveled to Japan when she was about four years old. Not sure of the details, but somehow, she got involved with some sort of magical powers, which is where her and your paths cross, Kiana. Her father's company has financial ties to the Arminthorpe Corporation. That probably explains how she's involved with them, but I have a feeling she also knows that you're here too."

Michael said, "You're getting in way over your head. We don't even know the full extent of the Corporation or what they're capable of. Let alone their intentions for Cain or us. Besides, if you're related to Dr. Cain, then they've probably already been spying on you."

"You think I don't know that? The only thing keeping them at bay is the fact that I'm a reporter—if I get kidnapped the entire town would be looking for me."

"Are ya sure 'bout that?" Jubilee mumbled.

Either he didn't hear her, or he chose to ignore her comment, but Graylon continued, "Trust me, if I could do this alone, I would. You guys draw way too much attention."

"Yeah, like no thanks to you," Jubilee added another muffled comment.

Lily spoke up for the first time. "Well, we all suspect that the Corporation kidnapped Dr. Cain. But why? I mean, he worked for them, right?"

Rico nodded. "Yeah, for years. It's gotta have something to do with that project."

"Project?" Ethan repeated.

Paige explained, "When Rico and I went through the hard drive, we found some encrypted files about a Project Genesis. Your names were in it. But we couldn't find any specifics. We were going to try to go through it some more today."

Frustrated, Michael hit the table with his fist. "I hate this. It's like the more we find out, the more questions there are. When are we going to start figuring any of this out?"

"When you start listening," Graylon snapped. "The Corporation is having a media open-house today. They've made a name for themselves in the world of biology, so I guess this is a PR stunt for them. They're supposed to be giving a tour of the place, showing demos of their work and technology, and holding multiple conferences throughout the day."

"So you're saying that we could slip in right now?" Ethan asked, catching onto what Graylon was suggesting.

"It starts today at noon," he added, looking at his watch. They had about two hours before the Corporation's doors opened.

Vanessa frowned. "Wait a minute. Won't they recognize us on the spot? I mean, if they're chasing us, why are we walking right up to their doorstep?"

"It's perfect because they don't expect you guys to think like that. You know, every time I check you guys out, you're kicking in doors with guns blazing. I know stealth isn't your style, but if we're going to find Niles, you've gotta figure it out. Besides, with the open house, I can guarantee that security is going to be focused on some of the lower labs, so you won't have to worry about being spotted."

Rico said, "Yeah, unless Arminthorpe himself is there."

"And anyone else he has chasing us," Kiana added.

Though Graylon's plan sounded thought through, there were too many variables and potential pitfalls for Ethan to totally buy into it. "Look, can you just give us a moment, Walsh?" he said. "We're going to discuss it."

"Fine. I've got to go to the bathroom anyways," Graylon gave a dismissive wave as he maneuvered around the table and disappeared into a doorway in the back.

When Graylon had disappeared from sight, Everett said, "This is the exact thing Emma and Sean said not to do. If we go to the Corporation, there's no telling what's going to happen. And the last thing that we need at this point is a surprise battle on their turf."

"Like whatev!" Jubilee disagreed. "I think blondie's like a total pain, but if we're gonna save Doc, then we can like do this. If we jus' like slip in, get the info, and slip out, Emma and Sean don't even hav'ta know."

Ethan agreed, "She's right. I don't like putting ourselves in the lion's den, but this is the first chance that we've had to even attempt to figure out why Dr. Cain was kidnapped, and more importantly, where he is. If we can find out something, we can give it to Emma and Sean, and maybe the X-Men can come in and do some big rescue mission. We don't have to start a huge fight with them."

Vincent clenched his fist as flames surrounded it. "Speak for yourself. If Arminthorpe had anything to do with it, I'm kicking his ass from here until Sunday."

"Umm, you don't like have a good track record with yer battles, Red," Jubilee said, referencing his losing fight against her and Paige. "Ya might wanna sit this one out with ol' Blondie. We wouldn't like want either one gettin' beat up by another girl or two."

Before Vincent could respond, Graylon reappeared from the bathroom. "Ms. Mouth, seeing as how I'm perfectly capable of handling myself, I'm going with you. Besides, I've registered all of us into the media database for the Corporation, I've got our badges in the fifteen-passenger van, so you guys can leave your flashy X-vehicles behind."

Vanessa asked, "How do we know we can really trust you? It's great that you got the information about Mina, but how do we know you're not in league with the Corporation?"

"You don't. And I don't have the time to convince you. I either find my uncle with you, or without. I couldn't care less at this point."

"You sure have an attitude problem," Ethan mentioned.

"And you guys don't?"

"If we're going to do this, then we all have to cut out the attitudes. We're all here for the same thing, right?" Michael said. "So if we're going to be a team, let's act like it."

Everett said, "The less time inside of the Corporation, the better. We'll split into three teams. I'll take Vincent, Monet, Angelo, and Rico. Ethan, can you take Jubes, Jono, Kiana, and Gaia? Michael and Vanessa, you two are with Graylon. Lily, since you have a healing ability, it might be better if you go back to the mansion. Paige, since you're the most versed with Cerebra, can you keep us in contact back at the school?"

"No problem. The vehicles have an auto-pilot feature, which can tap into the GPS. I'll just send them back to the school and drive the last one back with Lily."

"Why doesn't Mike or Monet simply keep us in psychic contact?" Angelo asked.

Everett answered, "If there are other mutants in this place, I don't want to take the chance that someone will pick up on it."

"Good point, hombre," Angelo complimented

"So, what exactly are we looking for?" Gaia asked.

"Anything that would link the Corporation to Cain's kidnapping. Holding facilities, suspicious documents, off-limits areas. Basically, we're there to snoop, but to do it fast," Graylon explained.

"So, am I the only one that thinks it's pretty convenient that you just so happened to come here with a fifteen-passenger van and all the details of your plan fully worked out?" Michael said, giving Graylon an obviously suspicious glare.

"Well, truth be told, I was heading up to your school. I stop by here every morning for breakfast though. And I never planned for you guys to say no. Now, if you're done, let's get outta here."

Everett and Ethan exchanged glances as they rose from the table, set on a quest to hopefully find answers to all of their questions. But little did they know that the day would end much worse for them than how it started.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional


	22. Ambushed, Part 1

I.

"So what do you guys know about the Arminthorpe Corporation so far?" Graylon Walsh asked, elevating his voice to overpower the sound of the wind blowing through the half-cracked windows. The strong wind whipped through the van, tossing his blonde hair around the frames of his aviator sunglasses. Keeping his eyes on the road, he smoothly changed lanes, then took an curving exit, which led them down a narrow, paved road lined with forest on either side.

Ethan Callaghan shrugged as the van cruised into a turn. "Not much at this point. We know that we were involved in some sort of project and that Dr. Cain was heading up that project. The Corporation does biological research, and I figure that studying mutant genes falls into that. That's probably why we were there. Other than that, nothing." From the passenger seat, he glanced out the window noting the thickening forest whizzing by.

It was the middle of the day, but dark clouds had begun to roll in, a precursor to a late summer rainstorm. _Perfect,_ Ethan sarcastically thought. If he believed in signs and the sort, he would have seen the storm as an ominous warning. But his concern was from a practical sense—any outdoor activities would probably be moved indoors, crowding the corridors and public areas. They would slip in unnoticed, but trying to get anywhere could prove challenging since so many eyes would be inadvertently on them.

Graylon took a left turn about fifteen miles per hour too fast, jostling everyone in the van.

"Hey, if yer like gonna kill us before we get there, why doncha jus' let me out like right now," Jubilee shot from behind Michael, Vanessa, and Jono, who sat directly behind Ethan and Graylon.

He tossed his blond hair from his sunglasses. "Pipe down. It was my bad. Geez. Are you even old enough to get a license?"

"I'm like old enough ta beat yer—"

"Guys," Everett interjected, placed a soothing hand on Jubilee's shoulder, which quieted her for the moment. "Are we almost there, Graylon?"

Graylon grabbed the directions from the center console, glancing over them quickly before tossing back. "Yeah. We're only about two miles away."

Rico, gazing out of the window, asked, "Did they build this place smack dab in the middle of the forest?"

"Actually, yeah," Graylon answered. "This is the only road leading to the Corporation's campus. The grounds themselves are made up of the main building and several smaller buildings spread out around it. The entire thing is protected by a twelve-foot electrified fence made of reinforced adamantium. There's only one entry control point, but there are two lookout posts with arms guards focused on the gate in the event someone tries to crash it."

"That's a lot of security for a biological research facility," Kiana commented.

"Or maybe it's not just for keeping people out…" Michael suggested, feeling uneasy at the thought of something biologically sinister happening within the confines of the Corporation. Though he thought it was a good idea at first, a bad feeling had started forming a knot in his stomach. And as they drew closer, that knot only grew.

Graylon nodded as he slowed down. "My thoughts exactly. Everyone grab a media badge and show it to the guard when I stop at the gate."

The van slowed and stopped as an almost comically muscular security guard stepped to the driver's door. Even through the guard's reflective sunglasses, he could feel piercing eyes inspecting him.

"Hi. I'm with the Daily Bugle. I'm bringing in the summer interns for media coverage of the Arminthorpe Corporation Open House. We should be in your registration book under media." He flashed a smile as he handed him his driver's license, but the guard kept his lips together in a straight, serious line, almost snatching the card away.

The guard disappeared into the shack, and Graylon could hear him pounding away on a keyboard.

"They obviously don't hire these guys for their personality," he snidely remarked.

The guard reappeared from the shack, expression unchanged. "And the Daily Bugle obviously doesn't hire based off talent. Now, get this damn van moving before I have your tires shot out."

Snatching his license back from the guard, Graylon's jaw clenched as he pulled past the gate guard, through the gate, and onto a winding road. "Asshole," he mumbled.

"You know, if that dude wasn't such a prick, I would've given him a high-five," Vincent smirked from his place far in the back.

Graylon glared at Vincent through the rearview mirror. "You still have a problem with me, kid?"

Gaia threw her head back and placed a hand on her forehead. "By the gods! May you hasten to park this chariot as I may relieve myself of the foul dispositions within that threaten to strangle me."

Jubilee rolled her eyes, wondering when if ever Gaia was going to talk like a normal person and not like she had stepped out of a Shakespeare play. "Like what she means is, the testosterone levels are totally getting dangerously high, dudes. And we'd rather not like drown in it. That's kinda gross."

"O! Hark! Hither! Theretofore!" Rico mimicked Gaia's dramatic gestures, eliciting hearty laughter throughout the van. As it died down, Graylon whipped the van into a "media only" only parking space and turned off the ignition.

"Okay, I guess this is where we part ways," Graylon said as he hopped out of the van, glad to stretch his legs. They had only driven for about an hour, but his legs had already started to cramp. As he stretched, the others piled out of the van and converged on the driver's side.

"Michael, Ethan, you guys have your comm links ready?" Everett asked.

"Yeah," Ethan replied.

Michael fumbled for a moment with his phone, but quickly converted it into the comm device using the button presses Paige had showed him last week. "Okay, I'm good now." He placed the earpiece in and waited.

"Hey, guys, do you read me?" Paige's voice crackled through the earpiece.

"Gotcha," Ethan replied.

"I hear you," Everett said.

"Yeah. But you're breaking up a little," Michael said.

"I know. I'm checking, and there's some kind of interference blocking communications. Your phones aren't going to work, and I think the comm units are going to go out. Normal radios probably don't work there either. Anything that they have is probably on some kind of closed circuit, or they have an in-house frequency. Anyways, I should still be able to keep track of you, so just be careful. And remember, code names only on the radio."

"Alright. Vanguard out."

"Marvel out."

"Synch out."

Graylon grinned with boyish curiosity. "Wow. You guys actually sound all official with your codenames and crap. So do I get a codename since I'm with your little X-outfit now?"

"I've like gotta name fer ya, and it totally starts with an A…" Jubilee replied.

"You don't have a radio so you don't need one," Michael interjected, wanting to avoid another bickering session between Graylon and anyone else on the team.

Forgetting about him, Jubilee leaned in towards Ethan. "So, like what's the sitch?"

"Seems there's some kind of disruption device that's messing up Paige's signal. We may not be able to stay in contact with the radios. Ev, I know you didn't want to, but we may need to rely on a little psi-comm." After Everett nodded in agreement, Ethan continued, "Let's look around, and get the hell out of here."

Already, he felt as though they had made a mistake by brazenly waltzing into the Arminthorpe Corporation campus. At the time, it seemed like a good idea—go in, find Cain or information leading to him, and get out. But now, as things were already starting to seem less than ideal, Ethan couldn't help but to think that this venture wouldn't go as smoothly as they planned.

Everett laid out the plan. "Okay, we'll split up according to the teams earlier. Every group take a map, and let's make this quick, without drawing any attention. The last thing that we need is a fight. Let's meet back here in an hour. That's enough time to find something but keeps us from staying around here too long."

Vanessa nodded in agreement. "Yeah, if someone recognizes us, our cover will definitely be blown."

"Which is why everyone's going to stay low-key. Mike, Monet, Gaia, and Jono. Keep any psi-conversations to a minimum. We'll only use it if there's trouble. Everyone, be careful," Everett concluded. With that, the teens parted ways, hoping that Everett's plan played out just as easily as he had said it. But from above, Mason Arminthorpe watched the teens curiously, knowing that before the day was over, he would find out all he needed to know about them.

II.

Ethan felt as though he were pulling off some stunt in Mission Impossible: infiltrating the enemy headquarters under a guise, searching for information, and getting back without so much as a raised eyebrow from the Arminthorpe staff—it was definitely up his alley. At the same time, he wasn't quite sure they were prepared for the consequences if they did get caught.

"You okay, Ethan?" Kiana asked.

"Yeah. I'm just a little tense. It's been a long time since we've been back here. But knowing what little we know now, I can't help but to wonder what's really going on behind these walls. And if we really want to find out."

"If like I didn't know that something totally suspect was goin' on, I'd think this was like a respectable research spot," Jubilee said as the group strolled down the wide sidewalk, lined on either side with large oak trees.

Gaia studied the ash-colored concrete and tinted glass buildings as they passed, her curiosity growing with each passing moment. "So what manner of science do they perform here?"

_"From what's been said, looks like they do medical research,"_ Jono explained.

"For what purpose? This isn't a hospital."

Kiana replied, "That's what we're hoping to find out, Gaia. Some parts of their work have actually been used in hospitals, but it's the part that involves us that seems suspect. We're not sure why mutants are the focus of some of their research, but ultimately, it could be the reason that Dr. Cain was kidnapped."

Before Ethan could add anything, he caught a glimpse of Trent Arminthorpe slipping into one of the buildings up ahead. Reacting almost instinctively, Ethan turned on the comm link. "Husk? I just saw Trent Arminthorpe. If anyone knows something, it's him. We're going to follow him."

On the other end, Paige immediate felt her stomach drop. Not only were they right in the middle of enemy territory, but now they were only tunneling deeper into the rabbit hole. Still, Ethan didn't need a worrywart on the other end—he needed a strong teammate that had his back. Focusing, she replied, "Got it. But be careful. I'll keep track of your coordinates within the building and transmit them to Marvel and Synch if there's any trouble."

"Vanguard out." Without another word, Ethan tapped into his heightened speed and bolted toward the same door Trent disappeared into. He called back, "Follow me."

"Umm…yeah. Like we all have super speed or something. We'll catch up!" Jubilee called back. "Like what got inta him?"

"One of the corporation owner's sons just went into that building. I'm sure that Ethan thinks Trent has some answers that we're looking for," Kiana replied as she broke into a sprint. The three remaining teens, Gaia, Jono, and Jubilee, followed closely, hoping they weren't drawing too much attention.

Ethan heard his teammates rapidly approaching behind him. It crossed his mind just to wait, but then he heard Trent running up the stairs, then a door quickly slam. He quickly calculated the distance, and not wanting to lose this golden opportunity, launched forward in pursuit. He couldn't figure out why Trent had gone all the way to the top of the building, but it didn't matter—he was determined to corner Trent and get some answers.

Ethan burst through the door to the roof, finding himself in sunlight again. He glanced around the immediate area, but Trent was nowhere to be seen. But there were places that he could have easily hidden: a storeroom on the far side, a large mechanical room closer to his right, and another door that probably led to another stairwell. _Damn, I lost him,_ he cursed to himself.

A few moments later, the door opened behind him, and Gaia, Jubilee, Kiana, and Jono all joined him on the roof.

Jubilee sucked in breath of annoyance. "Dude, like why'd ya take off like that? We're supposed to be like stickin' together, right?"

"I saw Trent Arminthorpe head this way," Ethan explained. His eyes continued to dart around the rooftop, still searching for some sign of Trent. "He's got to know something, but I think I lost him."

"Now, now, did you think we wouldn't welcome you with open arms?" a voice sounded from behind them.

Ethan spun to see not only Trent Arminthorpe, but four other teens that he had never seen before. "Trent Arminthorpe!" he reflexively gasped.

Trent smiled evilly. "A leader caught off-guard…I'm going to relish that look on your face, Ethan."

"Look, dude," Jubilee interjected, "like tell us where their Doc is, and we won't have ta like totally wax tha floor with yer butts."

An almost comically muscular brute said, "Crush puny girl."

"In a moment, Maul," Trent replied as if talking to a child.

"Fiends!" Gaia shouted as she pointed accusingly at the group in front of them.

_"Gaia, I don't think this is the time,"_ Jono said.

"Your dastardly deeds will henceforth proceed no longer."

_I'm not even sure that made grammatical sense,_ Ethan thought.

"Is this chick for real?" a female figure bathed in light asked.

Gaia cut her eyes at the girl. "Dare you address me in such a manner and tone, strumpet?!"

The girl's mouth opened in shock for only a moment, then her face contorted into an angry grimace. "Oh no! You did not just call me a strumpet. I saw Othello…I know what a strumpet is!"

Trent sighed, rolling his eyes. "Guys, please. We're in the middle of surprising and defeating these intruders. Save the dramatics and attack!"

Suddenly, the once quiet roof was filled with shouting and explosions, as the small team of Generation X found themselves embroiled in an unforeseen battle with mutants who seemed to want to do more than just defeat them.

Gaia found herself alone against a biological monstrosity—something out of one of Angelo's horror movies that he always loved to watch. She braced herself as the figure's arms morphed into thick, tentacle-like appendages. But before she could launch an offensive attack, one of the flailing appendages lashed out and caught her on the side of her head, forcefully knocking her into the air. As everything dimmed, she moaned as she helplessly sailed over the side of the building.

"Gaia!" Ethan screamed as he caught the scene out of the corner of his eye. Easily dodging a slow punch from Maul, he once again tapped into his heightened speed, and in a fraction of a second, he grasped her hand as she dangled about forty feet above the ground.

Gaia managed to shake off her daze slightly and found that she would have fallen to her death if Ethan hadn't helped her. Too dazed to concentrate to use her telekinesis, she allowed herself to be pulled up.

"Are you okay?" Ethan asked.

"I…" she trailed off, not entirely sure what to say. She rose to her feet, her head still spinning.

"Watch out!" Ethan said, pushing her away, while jumping backwards as a hot blast struck the spot where they were standing.

"Don't worry. When Soleil is through with you, you won't be okay!" the glowing female smirked.

On the other side of the roof, Jubilee intercepted Maul to let Ethan help Gaia. She used her speed and gymnastics to keep the lumbering brute distracted. After dodging another slow punch, on the upward arc of her flip, she launched a barrage of fireworks around Maul's head. The globules of energy exploded with a loud bang and bathed the area in spectacular displays of color and light. Impressed with herself, she landed on both her feet, once again thankful for the years of gymnastics training she had under her belt.

"Arrghhh!" Maul cried out, covering his eyes as he flailed around wildly. He could only comprehend that the light was bad and that somehow, he had to get rid of it. But the explosions exuded bursts of heat as well, so Maul found that grabbing at the lights was just as dangerous as being near it.

Jubilee knew this was her chance to take down Maul before he hurt anyone else. Dashing forward, she taunted, "Like so much for smashing puny ol' me, huh?" As she came within arms-reach, Maul, still blinded, swung wildly at her, but she ducked low, and his heavy arm swung over her head. Transitioning into a takedown attack taught to her by Gambit, she slid low, successfully taking out her oppoent's legs from under him. She rolled into a kneeling position and watched over her shoulder as Maul clumsily toppled to the ground. "They always say like the bigger they are—"

"Save it, chick," Soleil spat as a burst of pale yellow light poured from her outstretched hands.

Jubilee barely shifted to the side fast enough to avoid being struck by the heat and light attack.

"Ya got like one more time ta totally call one of us a chick!" Jubilee warned as fireworks streamed from her outstretched right hand. Lighting up the roof like the fourth of July, the fireworks popped and exploded with dramatic force, blasting Soleil in the center of her chest. As a moan escaped her parted lips, Soleil's limp body was thrown against the wall by the sheer force of Jubilee's attack.

Before she could even celebrate her win against Soleil, the male figure she had noticed earlier stood several feet away, simply watching her with large, white orbs for eyes. Without hesitation, Jubilee let a steam of fireworks ignite through the air, but the linear attack was much too slow. Spurious, the biological metamorph that had struck Gaia, ducked underneath, then his arm extended and morphed into a thick, whip-like appendage the snapped dangerously close to Jubilee.

"Ewww! Dude, you are like way gross!" Jubilee commented as she gracefully flipped out of the way. But the appendage whipped upwards unexpectedly and caught her ankle, slithering around it tightly, then he found herself smashed into the rooftop, pain coursing through her body.

"Monster!" Kiana screamed as her sword erupted from the palm of her hand. With a decisive swipe, the appendage was separated, freeing Jubilee while Spurious reeled in muted pain. Kiana smiled as Jono caught the enemy off-guard with a focused blast of biokinetic energy that knocked him to the ground.

Kiana gave a grateful nod as she turned her attention towards Trent Arminthorpe.

"Take this!" Trent screamed as he leaped into the air, raining down several psionic knives. He had hoped to hear her cry out as the knives struck her, but instead, with well-timed swipes, Kiana deflected each one, moving at near superhuman speed, but with a finesse that only she was capable of displaying.

A cool breeze blew Kiana's dark, straight hair as she stood in an offensive stance, ready for Trent to make his next move.

Across from her, he smiled, as he held out his hand, creating a psionic broadsword. "You don't realize how beautiful you are, do you?"

"Well, it's not very chivalrous for a man to attack a beautiful woman, now is it?"

"You didn't get the memo? Chivalry is dead," Trent charged forward, his sword drawn high and ready to strike.

"See," Ethan said as he suddenly appeared directly in front of Trent, "that's where you're wrong." He swung at Trent with a solid punch, but surprisingly, the younger Arminthorpe brother had leaped away, effectively distancing himself and avoiding the attack.

Trent smiled, seemingly more amused with the entire battle than anyone else. "Are you going to be Kiana's knight in shining armor now, Ethan?"

"No. We're teammates, and that's just what we do," Kiana answered as she dashed forward. As if it had been rehearsed, Ethan turned to face Kiana, cupped his hands to serve as a step, and when Kiana placed her foot in his hands, he shot her forward and into the air. Her body and sword began to shine as she sailed downward at a sharp angle.

Trent changed his sword into a shield and held it up against Kiana's attack. He thought his shield would suffice, but when she initially struck him, Trent knew he was in trouble. He had never had to repel that much force before with any of his weapons, and as such, his willpower wasn't strong enough to maintain the form of his shield, which began to crack.

"My shield!" Trent gasped, before it completely exploded, sending a psionic backlash that left him unguarded and open. Kiana continued through, and struck Trent with the flat side of her sword, sending the mysterious energy cascading through his body. As Trent collapsed to one knee, she rolled into a standing position and faced him, while Ethan watched from the other side.

"You have lost this battle," Kiana stated.

Trent replied with a breathless laugh. "Do you really think that we've lost? We're just getting started. Soleil!"

The girl raised her hands into the air as a bright flash turned everything a brilliant white, catching everyone unaware, blinding them. Suddenly, the tide of the fight shifted as a recovered Maul tossed Ethan to the side like a ragdoll, and Trent threw a side kick that floored Kiana. Though Jubilee had only just recovered, Soleil sneaked up behind her and pushed her to the ground, while Jono was confronted by Riptide.

Riptide grinned as he brought his hands together above his head. In the center of his hands, droplets of water began to converge, as if being pulled in by some unseen gravitational force. "Let's check your sea legs," he grinned, as water gushed from between his hands, blasting Jono directly in the chest. The water rushed around Jono's feet, quickly rose to his waist, then engulfed him. The rushing current defied all laws of gravity, soaring upwards and churning around in a tight whirlpool.

As Riptide laughed in the background, the water continued to whip around until it swirled within a self-contained sphere of water, now hovering several feet off the ground. The combination of the dangerously rapid current and pressure pinned Jono within the center of the sphere and moving in any direction to escape was next to impossible.

"Now let's see how long you can hold your breath," Riptide taunted as he held his hands in the air, obviously controlling the current and pressure within the sphere. He waited for the bubbles of surrender to escape Jono's nose and mouth, but as he peered closely, Riptide could see Jono smiling at him. _What the hell?! He should be drowning!_

_"Longer than you'll be conscious,"_ Jono answered as he let loose an omni-directional blast that sent the water shooting out in every direction, then he pointed his fist at his opponent and let a blast of biokinetic energy surge forth. Riptide tried to dodge, but wasn't fast enough as the blast caught him in the side.

"Arrghh!" Riptide moaned as pain shot through his ribs. He stumbled then fell hard on the rough surface, but his recovery was faster than Jono expected. Riptide's amazingly clear eyes locked on Jono, and he spat, "I don't know what you are," pointing his hand and summoning another rush of water, "but you're not going to beat me!"

An unexpected attack, Jono barely braced himself for impact, unable to do anything else. But when the water took a sharp curve around Jono and struck Spurious in the back, sending him smashing into the wall, he searched to find Gaia giving him a thumbs up.

_"Thanks, gel."_

"Payback. I owed you," Gaia said, without her usual Grecian mannerisms.

"Don't pat yourselves on the back too quickly!" Trent said as he threw several daggers in their direction. Jono attempted another omni-directional blast, but the psionic daggers went through his defensive maneuver and impaled themselves in his arm and both legs. Jono felt a psychic shock travel through his system, which took him down to one knee. He managed to glance towards Gaia and saw that she too had been hit by the daggers.

_"What did you do t' us?"_ Jono forced. He found the pain unrelenting, making it a concerted effort just to formulate thoughts.

"Haven't done your homework, mate? Think of me as something like your teammate, Psylocke. Except mine are much more mobile."

Jono recalled what he knew about the ninja-like X-Man. She had psionic powers as well, which ultimately manifested themselves in a psychic knife that emanated from her hand. With it, she could stun enemies and probably do some other psychic talents that Jono really didn't know. But the knowledge he had was enough to explain exactly what had happened. But unlike Psylocke's psychic knife, Trent's throwing knives dealt physical harm as well as psychic damage.

But before Jono could react, Trent was upon him, and with a solid punch, sent him sprawling backwards towards the edge of the roof. "Riptide, let's see if their young pink-haired friend can hold her breath indefinitely."

Riptide grinned as he once again created a stream of water that snatched Gaia up and suspended her within a swirling sphere of water. His grim spread even further as he watched Gaia try to desperately hold her breath.

_"Let 'er go!"_ Jono spat, but found himself too weak to muster any strength to fire off any biokinetic blasts.

"Maybe you should be worried about your own fate," Trent darkly responded as he raised a foot to stomp Jono.

With an almost feral growl, Ethan tackled Trent and the two rolled across the rooftop, separated, and sprang to their feet. But a hot blast hit Ethan squarely in the back, and he tumbled forward, right into a punch from Trent, which took him down.

Kiana figured that she could easily slip in and with her speed once again overcome Trent, but as she went in, Trent went low and struck her in the stomach with a solid punch. A vocalized scream escaped her as the air whooshed from her lungs. As her respiratory system refused to intake another breath, she collapsed to her knees as she desperately gasped for air. Before her body could recover, a solid kick struck her in the ribs, the force sending her rolling across the roof and then coming to a standstill close to the edge.

"Let her down, Riptide," Trent commanded, referring to a now unconscious Gaia, as he looked over the fallen team. "Looks like Generation X is down for the count. Take care of them, I think my father may need my help."

"So, what're we supposed to do with these losers?" Riptide inquired.

"Flay the flesh from their bones?" Spurious asked with an unhealthy glint in his eyes.

Soleil responded. "Umm, no more talking for you, okay?"

An alarm sounded from the main building, setting off the alarms for all of the adjacent buildings as well. In the split second that they were distracted, there was a strange blink sound and in a flash of lavender light, the teens of Generation X disappeared.

"Kids gone," Maul stated, completely perplexed by the unforeseen turn of events. In his mind, the kids were there, then suddenly, they weren't. The concept of teleportation was still foreign and would probably continue to elude him for months afterward. Frowning, he turned to Soleil, Riptide, and Spurious for an answer, but their expressions told him that they didn't know either.

Saddened that he couldn't complete his task, Maul scratched his head, perplexed, then his anger began to boil. He vowed that the next time he saw the kids, he would crush them on sight.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional


	23. Ambushed, Part 2

I.

Michael Lawson gleaned from a glance at his silver Fossil watch that it was almost noontime, which should have meant that the masses would break for lunch, thinning out the unexpectedly massive crowd at the Arminthorpe Corporation. But it seemed that the attendees' curiosity outweighed their need for hunger as they took advantage of every event the Corporation had to offer.

Glancing at the brochure, he saw that tours of the building kicked off every fifteen minutes, demos every thirty minutes, and genetic forums every hour and a half. Despite the rather limited schedule, people had come from miles around for this open house, which was partially understandable. From what he could tell, the Arminthorpe Corporation's other sinister activities with mutants were not known across the biological community. So on the surface, the Corporation was an outstanding research headquarters and a leader in scientific discoveries.

Michael maneuvered through the crowds with Vanessa Wallace, a friend and teammate, close behind him. Graylon Walsh had broken off from them several minutes ago, making a sweeping tour of the lobby area while checking out various hallways and rooms. Because his own psychic abilities seemed to be fuzzy at best, he hoped that Graylon would quickly make his way back to them, simply for the sake of ensuring his well-being.

"Anything from Paige?" Vanessa whispered as they weaved through a tour group.

Michael shook his head, taking another few moments to listen before verbally answering. "Nothing. I think the interference finally took down the line. I haven't heard from anyone since we split up."

Concerned, she asked, "Did you try to psychically talk to them?"

"Even though Ev said not to, I tried several times, but it's almost like something is limiting my psychic abilities. I can't get in contact with anyone, not even Monet."

Her full lips curled into a frown. "I don't like this at all. Do you think they're on to us already?" She glanced around, suddenly feeling as though every guard in the area was peering at them. As she continued to scan, she could swear that she spotted various patrons throughout the area staring right at them.

"I hope not," he replied, unable to hide his own feelings of trepidation. But just as he began to say something else, Graylon reappeared and headed right toward them.

Vanessa smiled with relief. "Glad you made it back. I feel like we're being watched."

Graylon shrugged. "Probably not. No one knows that we're here. But, over there," he motioned surreptitiously with his head, "Mason Arminthorpe is here. Mike, can you read his mind?"

"I can, but not if I don't have to, even if my psychic powers were at full capacity. I'd rather not muddle through the sadistic, world-dominating thoughts in his head. Or stumble into some kind of kinky, creepy fantasy he may be having subconsciously. Besides, my mind-reading abilities are a little off right now. I think maybe there's something blocking—"

"Ah, looks like I beat you to the punch, Walsh!" a female voice abruptly cut in from behind them. A girl, appearing to be similar in age, strode up behind them with a triumphant grin. She gave Vanessa and Michael an once-over glance, then locked eyes with Graylon. "Looks like you're hanging with a new crew today. Aren't you going to introduce us?"

"I wasn't planning on it," Graylon icily replied.

Averting unnecessary attention, Vanessa kindly reached for the girl's hand. "I'm Vanessa Wallace. And that's Michael Lawson."

"I'm Alicia Vargas," she shook Vanessa's hand politely, while still giving Graylon a haughty grin.

Graylon frowned. "Glad to see you slither out of your cave to try undercut me on the story. If I remember correctly, I was assigned to this story, so what are you doing here?"

Alicia played with her right earring as she replied. "Well, J.J. hasn't taken kindly to your recent lack of hot reports. You were late to the hospital, and he hasn't seen anything on Xavier's since the heart attack story. He thinks you're losing your edge, so he sent me as backup. So deal with it."

"Look, I don't have time to mess around with you and your rivalry. I've got this. Maybe you should just go home."

"Not a chance, fly boy. Besides, I'm hoping to get to sit down with the president himself for an interview." Noting Graylon's expression shift, she smirked. "Oh? Surprised? Jealous? You should be."

"Alicia, really. This has nothing to do with the story. Frankly, it doesn't have anything to do with you either. Listen," he closed the gap between them and lowered his voice, "in all seriousness, stay away from Arminthorpe."

She reared for a verbal re-attack, but when she saw the seriousness in Graylon's eyes, she held back her comment. "Don't try to scare me," she replied unsteadily. She wasn't used to seeing him this serious or showing concern. "Is there something going on? Off the record of course."

"Just stay away from him. And his sons. Listen, if you want in on this, I need you to listen. I'm going to see Mason Arminthorpe," he paused when anger flashed in her light eyes. "But this isn't just about an interview. There's something…dangerous…going on here. If you don't hear back from me or my two friends here in twenty minutes, call the police. Ask for Chief Authier directly. Understand?"

Surprised, she paused for a moment. "I—I don't know. You're serious aren't you?"

"Just do it, Alicia," he commanded. "Put the rest of the crap aside. Okay?"

"Fine," she quickly answered, not fond of his present attitude. "But you at least owe me an explanation. I don't get what's going on, but you've got twenty minutes."

"I would say thanks, but you'd probably throw it in my face later," Graylon said before turning away, motioning for Vanessa and Michael to follow.

She watched the trio weave into a crowd, and wondered just what it was they were involved in, and what would happen in twenty minutes.

When they were out of earshot of Alicia, Graylon announced over his shoulder to Michael and Vanessa, "I'm going to talk to Mason Arminthorpe. If I can get him alone, maybe I can get some info from him."

Michael frowned. "I don't like it. We don't know anything about him. You can't just corner him with information and accusations. You don't know how he's going to react. If he's willing to kidnap people, there's no telling what his limits are…if he has any at all."

"We can't just watch him from the crowd all day. And he'll recognize you two instantly. Just let me take care of this."

Though not fond of the plan, Michael understood his point and acquiesced. "We'll stay close behind. I won't be able to monitor you psychically, so you're going to have to give some kind of sign if you get into trouble."

"Yeah. Just keep your eyes and ears open, kids," Graylon said as he walked away from Michael and Vanessa, heading straight toward Mason Arminthorpe.

Mason noticed the reporter approaching and cracked a knowing smile. "Graylon Walsh, reporter extraordinaire. I'm pleased that you of all the media hounds could make it. Your presence makes me feel like a local celebrity."

"Thank you for the kind words. I was hoping to get an interview with you for the Daily Bugle. I wasn't able to schedule a formal interview with your office, but I figured you wouldn't mind an impromptu one-on-one."

"Well, of course. Today is all about allowing the public to get a glimpse into the intense research that this organization does. Actually, I was just heading up to my office. It's a bit crowded and noisy here, so why don't we do the interview there?"

Graylon nodded, throwing Michael and Vanessa a last glance before following Mason Arminthorpe around a corner. Though he swore that the head of the Corporation was none the wiser regarding their plan, there was something underneath his smile that spoke of impending doom.

He continued to watch Mason out of the corner of his eye, keenly alert should the older man make any sudden moves. He guided them past the main six elevators for public use to a slightly hidden elevator, which Graylon presumed went straight to his office. As they entered, he cleared his throat, afraid the silence would seem too suspicious.

"Mr. Arminthorpe, thanks again for granting me this interview. Especially on such short notice."

"It's no problem, although I'm surprised you aren't wearing your media badge."

_Shit!_ Graylon glanced down reflexively, as he silently cursed at his oversight. In his haste, he had completely forgotten the guise necessary for his deceptive intrusion. That was the second time in one day he had completely fumbled his own plan.

"Oh!" he attempted to sound surprised. "I—I'm not sure what happened to it. I must've left it in the car."

"An honest oversight. Now, what exactly are you here for, Mr. Walsh? You're not here for the standard interview, are you?"

Graylon caught a hint of knowing in Mason's voice and instantly regretted going anywhere alone with him. Steadying himself, he kept his voice level. "Well, we'll cut right to the chase. People have caught wind of the disappearance of one of your more prominent employees, Dr. Niles Cain. Since he worked here for so long, I figured that you would have some kind of insight as to where he could've gone or what happened to him."

Mason shook his head as the elevator continued to ascend. "It was brought to my attention—a shame really. Niles was one of my best geneticists. His unparalleled work had a large impact on biogenetics and mutant gene studies."

"So did you continue his work?"

"Of course. His work provided much of the basis for our organization. We couldn't simply let it die off. Dr. Adam Tedesco is currently working on some aspects of his projects."

"What exactly was Dr. Cain working on?"

"Am I being interrogated?"

"Maybe."

Mason let off a hearty laugh. "I've heard about your intensity, but to see it in person is something else. Niles had that same energy when it came to his research. You were aware that was the primary nature of his job, weren't you?"

"I've done my homework, Mr. Arminthorpe. I suspected as much given the nature of his discoveries and the awards he and this company garnered from his research, which is why I can't fully understand why you and your organization aren't more involved with trying to find him. There have been no public statements from you at all regarding his disappearance."

"We let the police do their job. They are fully capable of finding Dr. Cain without unnecessary interference from us."

"That could be it. Or maybe someone within your organization knows exactly what happened to Dr. Cain, and they don't want to be found out."

"Interesting. So, what do you think, Mr. Walsh?"

"Well, I think Dr. Cain uncovered the true intentions behind his research, and subsequently left the organization. But his expertise is unmatched by anyone in this organization, so you needed him back. You kidnapped him, so he could finish what he started. But the question is: what does it have to do with his project and the kids at Xavier's?"

"Quite a story you've created, and you sound sure of its validity."

"And you haven't denied any of it."

"You know, it's rude to step into someone else's domain and make such inflammatory accusations. But then again, this is more personal for you, so normal protocol doesn't matter, does it?"

"Where's Niles?" Graylon directly asked.

"Your uncle is reasonably safe. But you, you're in much more danger than you realize."

"Don't threaten me," Graylon said as his fingers silently morphed into jagged adamantium talons. "You'll regret it."

"An interesting combination of powers you have. Mentally pliable, adamantium arms and the ability to channel varying electrical bursts through contact. But that's not going to be enough to go against me."

"You think so, old man? If you don't want to tell me, I'll rip the information from you one piece at a time."

"It seems that I'm going to have to teach you some manners and respect. Obviously, Niles didn't do a good job." Mason beckoned for Graylon as an evil smile crossed his lips.

II.

Michael and Vanessa maneuvered through a tour group that coincidentally cut between them and Graylon, who had gone off with Mason Arminthorpe alone. The mass of people seemed to be oblivious to the fact that they were trying to push through, absorbed in the guide's description of the various awards the company and its employees had won.

Though Michael heard Dr. Cain's name mentioned, he didn't exactly hear what the award was for. Before he realized it, he was holding Vanessa's hand, which would keep them from getting separated, but he felt his face grow warm. Her hand was soft and delicate within his, and when he turned around, he was looking right into her hazel eyes. He flashed a smile, hoping it didn't come off as goofy or weird, as he guided her down a snaking path to the other side of the crowd.

He held onto her hand a beat longer, surprised that she didn't pull away immediately. But he chided himself, remembering their mission—this was no time for childish crushes. "They probably went to his office," he suggested as he lead the way toward the glass-paneled elevators.

They let an older couple off the elevator then slipped in, glad that no one followed them in. Vanessa hit the button for the top floor, figuring that the president of a company would probably have a top floor office. The elevator responded smoothly, taking them up to the twenty-sixth floor in less than ten seconds, and when the doors quietly parted, they stepped out cautiously, on alert for anything out of place.

"President's office—to the left," Vanessa read off the gold-lettered plaque centered on the wall in front of them. As she followed Michael, she noticed that not only was there no security, but there were no other employees. The long hallways were empty as best, the doors lined on either side closed tightly, with some kind of key card scanner right next to them. She wondered what was going on behind those doors and if it had anything to do with Dr. Cain.

The pair stopped in front to two frosted glass doors with long metal handles. Michael pushed it open to find a receptionist's area and a small waiting room. Behind it all was another set of double doors, but these were a dark wood with a gold handle. Taking a glance behind them to make sure no one was following them, he continued inside, holding the door for Vanessa, then made sure the glass door closed quietly with a telekinetic cushion.

"Where is everyone?" she asked rhetorically. She scanned the desk for any sign of the whereabouts of the receptionist and was surprised to find an opened bag of pretzels and an open document. "It looks like there was someone here recently. Maybe she took a break."

"Yeah. Maybe," he replied, feeling like there was more to the lack of personnel here than just coincidence. He had felt strangely ever since they had actually gotten into the building, and as small things started to reveal themselves, Michael was absolutely sure that their arrival here wasn't as surprising or unexpected as Graylon initially thought.

He approached the two doors to Mason's office, and paused, putting his ear next to it. He strained to hear anything, but only silence responded.

"Is it soundproof?" Vanessa asked after noting his expression.

"Might be. It's definitely psi-proof. I can't tell if anyone's in there or not," he frowned. Normally, he wouldn't think twice about charging in, but today, they were only supposed to be gathering information and getting out as expeditiously as possible. But Graylon had decided to go off with Arminthorpe alone, which by itself gave Michael a bad feeling.

He placed his hand on the frigid handle and gave her a nod, before pushing it open carefully and slowly. As the office came into view, he saw Mason grasping Graylon in the air by his collar. Before Michael could interrupt, Mason locked eyes with him, and with a smirk, threw their teammate at their feet. The blonde rolled to a stop only inches in front of them, riddled with bruises and torn clothes.

"Never send a child to do a man's job," Mason commented as Vanessa kneeled down to help Graylon. Michael immediately put himself between them and Mason.

Graylon clambered to his feet with minimal help from Vanessa, his anger boiling, which caused him to completely ignore her brief questions of his well-being. "I'm going to kick your ass," he growled. His adamantium talons grew in length to match his fury, while small snakes of bioelectricity danced along the metallic portion of his arms.

Mason cocked his head, obviously amused. "Trust me, you're no match for me."

"I don't give a damn," he snapped without hesitation. "I'm not leaving here without my uncle."

"Youthful exuberance," Mason began. "It's respectable and charming in an infantile kind of way. But it can also lead you into precarious situations, like now. You and your friends are in way over your heads, trapped like flies in a spiderweb. Though in some ways, I am intrigued and surprised by your audacity. Or maybe I simply pity your foolishness."

A confident smirk spread across Michael's face. "Eh, let's keep it positive. Being ballsy happens to be a habit of mine. So, I take it you are up to something bad here. You kidnapped Dr. Cain, and you've been pursuing us for some kind of weird, evil plan."

"And you didn't even have to read my mind. Reasonably impressive. So where do we go from here?"

"Well, you can let Dr. Cain go, and let us all walk out of here. But that sounds way too easy. And people like you don't like easy," Michael responded. He was taking a huge gamble trying to talk to Arminthorpe, but if they could avoid fighting, he was all for it.

Mason's amused smile faltered slightly, replaced by a genuine expression of curiosity. "So you're planning on fighting me too?"

Michael shrugged nonchalantly, though in reality, he really didn't want to fight Arminthorpe. This was the exact situation that they were supposed to be avoiding, but it didn't seem that they were going to escape without using a bit of force. Considering that Graylon had already gotten into a skirmish with Arminthorpe, the chances of them simply strolling out of his office was definitely zero.

"Honestly, that wasn't a part of the plan. But we're willing to improvise," he replied.

"Now, now. I wouldn't advise any sudden moves. I've already had to defend myself against the rather savage, foul-mouthed reporter. I'd rather not have to hurt the two of you as well."

Vanessa shook her head and offered a way out. "Then you don't have to." She, like Michael, knew that a fight with Arminthorpe wouldn't necessarily get them any information. And actually, because they knew nothing about him and the way he had simply thrown Graylon at their feet, a fight with him could prove dangerous.

Mason responded, "But this battle is inevitable, Ms. Wallace. If you're anything like Graylon, I can guarantee it will be short."

Michael felt his mind clear up a little, so he projected his plan into Graylon's and Vanessa's head. _"Guys, I don't want to fight him, but I don't think we have a choice. If we can at least knock him down or out, it will give us a chance to run away. Vanessa, go high. Graylon, flank him. I'll go low. Now!"_ he telepathically commanded.

Pointing both of her fists, Vanessa drew upon the Darkforce power for a concussive energy blast right above Mason's head. Michael launched forward, augmented by his telekinesis, while Graylon curved toward the left then turned inward sharply, his adamantium talons shining in the light. Michael got there first, and threw a powerful sidekick at Mason, and Graylon simultaneously swung at his head with deadly intent.

Surprisingly, neither move hit as Mason—he dodged both maneuvers and countered with his own punch and kick, which sent them sprawling. Vanessa couldn't believe that Mason could have moved that fast. She let another bolt fly from her fists, which was aimed squarely for his chest.

But when Mason saw the attack, he didn't move. Instead, the ebon bolts clashed with a crimson-tinted shield.

"You're a mutant?" Michael asked, surprised.

Mason only smiled in response. With a wide sweep of his hand, a wave of crimson energy materialized and sped across the room with such force that it blasted all three teens against the opposite wall, leaving three human-sized dents. "Now, I'll show you what true power can do."

With a mere flick of his wrist, Mason intended to floor the threesome that had dared to enter his building—his office—and make outrageous demands. For all their bravado, they were still children, and he intended to be their teacher and show them a painful lesson. But when his energy wave was rebuffed by a collision of blue energy, he found himself surprised and intrigued.

"So, the lion cub is finally showing his fangs," Mason mused. "Let's see how far you're willing to go." He extended his hand toward Michael as crimson energy materialized, becoming a visible current swirling around him. Feeling the power of his feat, he smiled as he blasted a continuous stream of energy towards Michael.

The energy attack collided with Michael's own energy, nearly throwing him off his feet. He used only a fraction of his power to regain a solid stance as he focused all he could into repelling Mason's assault.

As Michael poured his concentration into holding Mason's energy at bay, he could feel his power growing, which should have been impossible. He was pushing himself farther and harder than ever…if anything, he should be faltering and weakening. But the same feeling that he had back when facing Angora came back to him—a feeling of complete control over his power and so much more.

Michael focused more, the signature blue energies of his power manifested around him, much in the same manner Mason's had done. Suddenly, the room was bathed in a combination of crimson and azure light, giving off sparks of deep violet where the energies collided.

_ Interesting. His telekinetic and psychic energy is manifesting itself as physical, visible energy. This could be quite a development,_ Mason analyzed. Though he knew this battle was reaching dangerous levels, he didn't care. This is what he wanted to see—this is what he wanted to know…the powers that these children possessed in their most raw, untamed form.

Though Michael was holding Mason off, he knew that one slip would be disastrous for him, Vanessa, and Graylon. The situation had gone past the point of no return, but what exactly did that mean? How far was Mason willing to go? And more importantly, how far was Michael willing to go?

Protected by a dark-tinted, translucent shield, Vanessa and Graylon were at Michael's back, watching with both rapt curiosity and grave concern. Vanessa could feel the energies battering her shield, and though she was strong, she wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.

"What's he trying to do?!" Graylon shouted to Vanessa.

"Trying to protect us," she replied, keeping her eyes locked on Michael. _But how long can he protect us? And what happens when he fails?_ Vanessa returned to when she first met Michael, when he was clumsy and awkward with controlling his telekinetic powers. And now, he was facing someone that had an immeasurable amount of power and experience. She didn't understand how he could have had such a dramatic advancement in his abilities over such a short period of time. But for now, Vanessa was thankful. "He knows what he's doing," she added. _At least, I hope he does._

"What about the others?"

"He hasn't forgotten about them. Trust me," Vanessa answered back.

Michael could hear everything, even the things Vanessa and Graylon didn't want him to hear. He felt the fear, doubt, awe, and trepidation from both of them as if it were on display right in front of his face. But he couldn't feel anything from Mason—it was almost as if he wasn't even there.

But Mason Arminthorpe was there. And he had a boundless supply of unidentifiable energy, which continued to bombard Michael.

_"Looks like we're at a stalemate,"_ Michael telepathically channeled to Mason.

"Do you really think so? You may have reached your limit, but I have a long way to go. Care to give up?"

_"Not while my friends are depending on me,"_ Michael replied as he broke down the barriers within his own mind to unleash powers limited only by his own rationality. As those barriers temporarily dissolved, Michael felt the very fabric of his essence change into something more. Though he didn't quite understand it, he already accepted this newfound existence as fact, as the world around him revealed itself down to its molecular components.

And with this newfound vision, Michael thoroughly understood the infinite vastness of a telekinetic who had reached the zenith of development. It was the most spectacular thing Michael had ever seen or experienced, and no words could adequately describe what he saw, felt, and understood. But he turned that understanding into a deadly force, manipulating the threads of the universe as weapons against Mason.

Somewhere far off, Michael heard sirens, probably alarms within the building. He could feel the mass movement of people below them. Good. They wouldn't be victims of circumstance, and he had created a distraction that his teammates could take advantage of. But Michael had to end this before they brought the entire building down around them. Even now, he could see the stitching holding the molecules of the building together being torn apart at a rapid pace.

With a final grunt, Michael escalated his power exponentially until the entire room was bathed in hot blue-white light. Then everything slowed to a near standstill, as if the progression time itself had completely ceased to exist. For a moment, nothing moved. There was no sound. Everything had just stopped.

Then, the energies collapsed in on each other, creating a low-pressure sphere directly in between Mason and Michael, which in the next second, expanded and burst forth with the force of a supernova, as the condensed energy cascaded out wave after wave. Mason and Michael were the closest and hit the hardest, while Vanessa and Graylon caught a slightly less forceful blast.

Blown back against the wall, Vanessa and Graylon hit the ground hard but scrambled to their feet quickly. Vanessa's hazel eyes darted back and forth, but the dust and debris in the air limited her vision severely. Meanwhile, Graylon was inspecting himself, amazed that he was still in one piece. He knew that Vanessa's shield had absorbed part of the blow, but with a force that strong, they shouldn't be walking right now.

"Michael?" Vanessa called. She took a step forward, her meager concern becoming a foreboding knot in her stomach. What if Michael had overexerted himself to a dangerous level? What if he didn't walk away from this? _No, don't think like that. He's fine,_ Vanessa told herself, but the knot didn't go away.

"We should've been torn apart by that level of energy," Graylon mentioned, still stunned by the whole situation.

"Well, that's where a telekinetic shield comes in handy," Michael explained as he walked toward them, his figure coming into focus as he drew near. Though he was a little bruised and looked worn out, he managed to smile. "It's a little harder making it for three though."

He took another step then pitched forward as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, only barely aware of Graylon somehow getting there in time to catch him, and Vanessa repeatedly asking him if he was okay. But everything seemed distant and far away, as if he were listening to everything through a muffled filter.

In the midst of everything else, he saw something somewhere in his peripheral vision, a shimmering, ethereal light that was impossibly bright and felt warm. But when he actually tried to look towards it, he saw nothing. Alarmed, Michael's body barely responded as he continued to let his eyes pan the scene, trying to desperately find the elusive thing, whatever it was.

_"What are you looking for?"_

Surprised at the strange, asexual telepathic voice, Michael managed to push himself to scan the room once more, but afterward fell totally into Graylon's arms, unconscious. Yet, his mind was still going, and he found himself on the astral plane, in a room of darkness. There was no up or down, left or right, forwards or backwards—only a deep darkness that surrounded Michael.

_ "Who's there?"_ he frantically asked. At this point, Michael wasn't sure whether he had fallen into some kind of psionic trap or if he was simply hallucinating from overexerting himself.

There was a long pause before the voice answered back, _"My child, I am beyond your understanding. But you are not beyond mine. Your mind called to me. And I have answered."_

_"I didn't call for you,"_ Michael corrected, still trying to find the origin of the voice. But it came everywhere, yet nowhere all at once, making it much harder to pinpoint. _"Who the hell are you? Arminthorpe?"_

There was a shorter pause this time. _"You have a strong mind, Michael Lawson."_

_"Do I know you?"_ he hesitantly asked, now convinced that he wasn't facing anyone that Arminthorpe had sent after him. But a fear began to grow in his stomach that he had stumbled into something much larger and dangerous than he was ready for.

_"No. Not yet. You will. But even then, you will not be ready."_

_"Don't play games with me,"_ Michael snapped. He didn't like the fact that he couldn't see this person or whatever addressing him. But now, it wouldn't even give him a straight answer, which caused anger to surge within Michael. _"What the hell are you?"_

The question even surprised Michael, but on some level he knew that he was talking to a being, neither male of female…something not even human. Though it was unnerving, Michael wasn't about to show any sign of it.

_"You will know in time,"_ it responded. _"For now, rest."_

He tried to protest, but the darkness closed in around him, enveloping him in its frigid grip so quickly, that he didn't even have time to scream.

"Mike, are you okay?" Graylon's voice cut through the black void, bringing Michael back to some form of consciousness.

His eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, they still shone the same fire blue of the physical manifestation of his psionic energy, but they quickly changed back to their normal brown color. He managed to sit up, wriggling out of Graylon's supporting arm, and though he felt dizzy, Michael pulled himself into a standing position as he massaged his throbbing temples.

"Yeah," Michael absently answered, his voice a painful whisper. "My head just feels like it's going to explode."

"It will wear off after a good night's rest."

The trio whipped around to face the familiar voice and found Mason Arminthorpe taking slow, deliberate steps toward them through the settling dust. He strode nonchalantly with his left hand resting in his dark slacks and a curious smirk on his face, as his eyes flashed with maniacal glee. Though the teens looked as though they had been dragged through the dirt, Mason showed no signs of having just been in a monumental struggle.

"I'm surprised, Mr. Lawson. You've grown quite a bit, much more than I would have imagined," Mason stated as he continued to draw closer.

Michael's brown eyes flared and though he was in bad shape, he could feel his second wind coming. Though he stepped out from Graylon's support, Michael used a fraction of his telekinesis to keep himself upright. "I don't know what you're trying to do, but you're not going to get the chance. We'll stop you here and now."

"Spoken like a true storybook hero. But I don't believe victory will be yours on this day."

"Like hell," Graylon retorted. "I'm only asking one more time, where's my uncle?"

Mason stopped his advance and looked up and away as if he were actually trying to find a suitable explanation. After a few moments, he said, "Niles Cain, a man without the slightest clue of the power locked inside of him—same as some of you. But while he is simply an anomaly, you all are the next generation of mutants, an evolution within a mutation, surpassing even the most powerful of mutants of yesteryear."

Vanessa countered, "Whatever our powers are or aren't, they're not for you to control or whatever you're trying to do." Her anger mounted as the seconds ticked by, though her voice and demeanor didn't portray it. "We just want to live normal lives," she added.

"Impossible," Mason spat. "You all still see life through he eyes of a naïve child. Some of you have power unlike anything in this universe hiding within you. It can't stay hidden, and you'll never live a normal life—you have been blessed with these extraordinary powers to bring order to this world."

Michael shook his head with a disapproving frown. "Yeah, under your umbrella of world domination? I'll pass, thanks." His mind raced through other pressing concerns—what was happening to the others? Did the alarm help evacuate people out of the building? Has twenty minutes passed so Alicia can call the police? How would they get out of this situation with Mason? Again, Michael found himself filled with questions, but no answers to any of them.

Mason's voice cut into his thoughts. "Today, I tested you, Michael, and pushed you well beyond the limits you thought you had. And it felt good, didn't it?"

Michael shrunk back against the question, tightening his lips as if to say that he wasn't going to answer. Ever.

Mason let a hollow chuckle pass through his nose. "You don't have to tell me. I know it felt good. Your place isn't with the X-Men—it's here, building a new world order, where even the powerhouses like Magneto bow before us."

"I don't know how things got to this point, but you're just trying to use us. Your visions of conquering the world are insane!" Vanessa said.

"You all possess of a certain level of potential, and for you to be useful to me, I want to ensure you reach that full potential. Today, our battle is over. But use your time wisely, because we will meet again."

"Father!" Trent called as he leaped down from somewhere above, landing directly next to Mason. His eyes were filled with hatred as he glared at the trio.

"We're here," Lucas announced as he phased into existence.

"Using your sons as your personal bodyguards?" Graylon quizzed. "Or maybe they're nothing more than human shields."

"Looks like I get to shut you down the same way I did your friends," Trent said.

Lucas put up a quieting hand. "Allow me," he said as he pointed his fist towards them, centering it on Michael. After a mental command, punctuated with a triumphant smirk, amber light emanated from his fist until it burst forth into a single, spherical shot. Wide enough to hit all three, Lucas didn't need to fire another one, and waited for the teens to cry out in anguish.

Yet, Michael held out his hand, and with a slightly exaggerated flick of his wrist, the energy arched upwards and smashed into the ceiling, the energy coursing through the material like lightning dancing through water.

"You—you deflected my energy attack?" Lucas stated, stunned.

Michael managed a slight grin. "They don't call me Marvel for nothing," he said as the ceiling began to cave in. A slight telekinetic nudge from Michael caused large pieces of concrete and steel to fall between them and the others, but other pieces fell as well, blocking the exit. Michael tried to move it telekinetically, but a crippling pain sent him to one knee.

"Mike, are you okay?" Vanessa asked as she gave him a supporting shoulder to lean on.

"No, I'm not. We've got to get out of here."

Graylon shook his head adamantly. "Not without Niles."

"The others are a lot worse off than we are. We can't help him…not like this."

"You expect me to just leave here without him?!"

"I expect you to listen to me when I say we have to go."

Vanessa agreed. "Michael's right, Graylon. Don't make this more difficult than it already is. Do you really think we want to leave Dr. Cain behind?"

"You're doing a piss-poor job of convincing me."

"Enough," Michael managed to sound firm, though he felt as if he was about to fall apart. "You're good, but these guys are better. If we get beat here and captured, we'll be right next to Dr. Cain, and whatever they're doing to him will be done to us without a second thought. If you want to help, then we retreat."

Graylon cursed under his breath, but reluctantly let the argument die.

Vanessa turned her attention back to the doorway. Behind them, she could hear Trent and Lucas blasting through the concrete. "We're not going to be able to get out of here. The door's blocked."

"Paige, come in? Are you there?"

"I can hear you. Hold on. I'm trying something that will get you out of there."

Just as she said that, a large chunk of ceiling directly overhead fell. Michael saw it, but his powers were waning, and it was falling much too fast. But before it got too close, Michael swore he heard something that sounded like a blink before everything went completely dark. In the distance, he heard the concrete smash into the ground, but now, he couldn't figure out where they were or what had happened to them.

As he lost consciousness, confusion and disorientation were the last things that he felt as he heard Graylon's and Vanessa's screams echo through their dark prison.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional


	24. Ambushed, Part 3

I.

"The Arminthorpe Corporation was founded only a mere five decades ago but has been the sole forerunner in biological and genetic research," the tour guide enthusiastically recited as if it was his first time. Making distinctive eye contact and showing a brilliant smile, he continued, "Among our staff, we have the world's best geneticists, biologists, chemists, and researchers within our organization."

_But he forgot to mention the part about mutants on the premises,_ Everett sourly thought. He could feel several different mutant signatures, close enough for him to detect but far enough away that he couldn't adequately synch to them. Admittedly, Everett didn't really think that they would discover anything significant on this trip, mainly because it was too easy. They had slipped into the facility with ease, barely having to show their badges to the guards. Then, their conspicuously large group split up into different areas without so much as a second glance from the staff. Even now, Everett couldn't spot any security cameras or even any off-limits areas. Surely, a place this open wouldn't have anything to hide. Yet…

"So, what did Paige say?" Angelo whispered to Everett, trying to keep his voice as low as possible though they were trailing the group, and it would have been near impossible to overpower the guide's voice.

Everett replied, "There's something breaking up her signal. I figure we'll just check around here for a few minutes, and if we don't find anything, head back out. The signal should clear up once we're outside."

"So what're we supposed to be lookin' for?" Angelo asked.

"We'll know when we find it," Everett replied, noticing Vincent rudely cutting through the crowd towards them. Patrons looked at him strangely, not only because of his rude demeanor but also because of his eye-catching red hair and icy blue eyes. Everett didn't consider it before, but he should have recruited some of the other students that wouldn't have stood out so much.

His face contorted in anger as usual, Vincent said, "Hey, why're we just standing here, listening to that chump yap? Shouldn't we be trying to find the labs or something?"

Before Everett could say anything, Rico caught his eye with a surreptitious wave towards from inside a darkened doorway. "Look, just be patient and follow me," Everett calmly replied. He, Angelo, and Vincent cut away from the crowd, crossed the populated lobby, and ducked into the room, which turned out to be a small conference room. Monet was already seated at the head of the table with her long legs crossed, and the others joined her.

Rico shut the door behind them and turned the bolt. "Monet and I found this conference room, I figured we could use it to plan out our next move, since it doesn't seem like our cell-radios aren't working in here." Crossing the room and sitting down, Rico pulled a device resembling a Blackberry from his pocket.

"Yo, hommes. What'd you do, rob the mansion of every gadget you could find?" Angelo asked, studying the device suspiciously.

"Forge left behind a lot of cool, smaller devices that we could use in cases like this. With this X-Drive," Rico began as his fingers moved smoothly over the mini-keyboard, "I can create a sonar-like pulse that'll basically shoot modified sound waves throughout the building. As they bounce back, it can take the resulting wave, time, and distance to create a virtual blueprint."

"Now, I don't know a lot," Angelo began as a puzzled look crossed his face, "but since we're locked in this room, aren't the sound waves gonna just bounce right back at us?"

An excited look crossed Rico's face, as if he were waiting for someone to ask. "You would think so, but that's what makes them modified. They're pulsing at a frequency which allows them to travel through certain materials, while reflecting and bouncing off of others. I don't know all the fine details, but the end result's what's important," as Rico finished, a miniature blue-hued hologram of the building materialized in front of him. "Voila!"

Everyone leaned in, studying the rotating, translucent replication of the building. The holographic representation rotated slowly on an invisible vertical axis down the middle. The soft blue light wasn't horribly bright but gave it a crisp, easy on the eyes display.

"So, it looks like we're here," Everett pointed to a room in the northeast corner of the ground floor.

"Right," Rico answered. "I think we'll find whatever we're supposed to be finding in the lab, but I can't tell if it's on the upper floors or somewhere down below."

Monet explained, "In a facility like this, the most logical placement of any type of laboratory or research environment would be in the sublevels of the facility. Not only is access to the lower levels limited, such entrances would obviously be secured with minimal security effort. In addition, in the unfortunate case of an accident, the laboratory could be easily quarantined or contained, simply by sealing or destroying the entrances.

Rico nodded, wondering why he didn't draw such a logical conclusion. "Yeah, that makes sense. So then, we're looking at these three floors down here. It looks like there's only two elevators that go to those levels. One of them looks like it also goes to the top floor. But this other one…it should be right down the hallway."

"Hey, what's that?" Vincent pointed at the hologram of one of the lower levels.

Rico leaned in closer to study the three-dimensional blueprint, frowning. "Not sure. If I took a guess though, I figure it's another research room. But all of these smaller rooms next to remind me of some kind of cells."

Vincent stood, slamming his left fist into the palm of his right hand. "Then that's where they have Dr. Cain," he concluded. "What the hell are we waiting for? Let's go!"

Everett interjected. "Just hold on. I didn't mention it before, but I can feel the presence of other mutants in this building. I don't know where they are, but chances are that they might be the security for these floors. We didn't come here to cause trouble, so let's just take it easy."

"Well, while you take it easy, I'm gonna head down there."

Rico shook his head. "Vinnie, don't be hotheaded. And I really didn't intend to make a pun there. But Ev's leading this team, so let's wait for his decision."

Frowning, Vincent leaped to his feet. "Yeah, and the longer we sit and wait, the longer Cain is in their hands. So what're you planning to do, leader?" Vincent asked, the sarcasm oozing from his question.

Everett made a mental note to discuss attitudes and the like once they got back to the school. But for the time being, he simply ignored Vincent's tantrum. "We'll check out the labs. Vincent, you bring up the rear."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Rico, take point since you have the directions."

"Got it," Rico plotted the coordinates into the X-Drive, banished the holographic blueprint, and hopped to his feet, excited that they were actually doing something that felt very X-Men mission-like. Internally, he was jumping around like a little kid, despite the potential danger they were getting themselves in. But on the outside, he maintained a cool demeanor, wishing that he could be as calm as Monet.

"Monet, are you okay?" Everett asked, also noticing her unusual silence. Aside from explaining the lab location, Monet had been uncharacteristically quiet, which Everett took as a sign of distress or a forewarning of trouble. And it turned out to be the latter.

Monet stood, smoothing out her skirt. "My psychic abilities have been waning since we first entered this facility. I presumed that it was a momentary disorientation, but presently, I've determined that there is a strong possibility that a psi-dampener is in effect, which prevents me from communicating with the others."

_Mutants somewhere in the building. Psi-dampeners. Secret labs. This place is definitely hiding something,_ Everett easily concluded, but it only created a hard knot in his stomach. There were several signs that something foul was going on within the Arminthorpe Corporation, but there seemed to be a lack of security and things were falling in line way too easily for them to find something.

"Do you think we should go through with this?" Everett's voice was low and firm, his eyes locked with Monet's.

"Considering we've gone this far, it would be a severe loss if we didn't continue. But there is an exponentially increasing chance that someone will discover our presence."

"Well, we're going to have to make this fast then, right?" Everett said as he headed out with Monet right behind him.

Angelo fell behind Everett and Monet, splitting them from Vincent as they walked down the hallway. Stopping for a moment, Angelo turned to Vincent. "Hey, amigo. Ev's too nice to say anything, but I'm not. You need to check your attitude. We're here to help you, but if you screw this up, I'm gonna take it personally. And trust me, I've dealt with hombres bigger and tougher than you care to imagine. And I don't fight fair. Am I clear?"

Vincent challenged Angelo for a moment, standing inches from his face, waiting for the slightly shorter teen to flinch. But Angelo held his ground firmly. Vincent blew out a dismissing breath, "Whatever." He broke the challenge, brushing past Angelo as he joined the others.

Angelo hesitated for just a moment, noticing the elevated temperature within the corridor. But he didn't care. Vincent was a newbie, and if did anything that hurt any of his friends—no, family—Angelo would make sure Vincent paid dearly. He cracked his neck by turning his head at a sharp angle to the left before falling in behind his teammates, who were all standing next to the elevator.

"Here's another great use for the X-Drive," Rico excitedly began said as he began to type, not noticing Angelo and Vincent's tardiness. "I've got a code-cracking program on here that wirelessly taps into the security system and accesses the unlock mechanism."

The small red light below the keyboard turned a soft green, and the elevator doors parted quietly, revealing a steely, unfriendly interior with grated walls, metal floor and ceiling, and harsh florescent lighting.

"Um, ladies first?" Rico joked towards Monet.

"How chivalrous of you," Monet flatly replied as she strode into the elevator.

"I really didn't mean for you to go first," Rico added as he followed her in. Everett, Vincent, and Angelo entered last, and Angelo nodded towards the floors, which read B1, B2, and B3. "B2," Rico directed, and Angelo pushed the button, which illuminated red seconds before the elevator began its quick decent about two hundred feet underneath the building in a matter of seconds. Again, the doors slid open quietly, but this time, they revealed a much different scene.

The elevator led directly into a large laboratory with rows of desks and tables filled with papers, computers, biological and chemistry equipment, and other devices with an unknown usage. The room was bright with the same harsh florescent lights in the elevator and the highly polished linoleum floor managed to reflect some of that light as well. The thing that stood out the most was the rows large containment units lining the very back of the laboratory, filled with a thin green liquid surrounding a humanoid figure.

"I feel like we just stepped into a science fiction movie," Rico whispered as they stepped cautiously into the ominously empty lab. "And there's no doubt about it—they are definitely the bad guys."

Everett couldn't believe the size of the lab, but he finally pinpointed the mutant auras he felt earlier—they were all within the containment tanks. Which meant that they were either experimenting on mutants or creating their own. Either way, Rico was right—the Arminthorpe Corporation was up to something unlawful, unethical, and just all around bad.

Everett directed, "Rico, can you use the X-Drive—"

"Already on it. It has a HD camera and recorder, so I'm getting video of all this."

"Make sure to get the back too."

"There should be data that we can collect within the local computers here, which will strengthen our evidence," Monet suggested.

Rico responded, "Well, maybe I can get into these computers. All I have to do is crack the encryption code, then remotely log into the main servers through a small backdoor." Rico sat down at the computer and connected the X-Drive to a USB port on the front. As he typed on the virtual keyboard of the X-Drive, Rico frowned. "This is going to be a little more tricky than I thought. It's like someone out there is rewriting the lockdown code as fast as I break it. I'm going to have to SMS Cerebra for help."

"You're gonna send a text message back to Paige?" Angelo asked.

"Yeah. Since our radios don't work, it's the only way I can get some help," Rico a small virtual screen appeared, and Rico typed a quick message and hit send. Almost immediately, he got something back from Paige. "Sweet! She's attacking it from her end too now. Apparently, she's accessing it, using the X-Drive as a conduit. Now, she's doing an encrypted copy of the information, and splitting it up in Cerebra's memory. And I guess she's organizing it against meta-data, to make it harder to find, in the event they manage to track it back into our system. She's also setting up some kind of virus trap in case they do manage to follow the data back to Cerebra."

"How the hell do you know all this?" Vincent asked.

"Oh! Paige is a fast typer. She's telling me all this over text."

Monet rolled her eyes, "And to think I actually pondered for a moment that your intelligence level in the technological realm would rise to a mere fraction of mine. I suppose not."

"Hey," Rico said, feeling a bit dejected. "Give me a little credit. I got us this far, right?"

"Well, while you dick around with the computers, I'm gonna find Cain," Vincent announced. Before anyone could object, Vincent loudly called, "Dr. Cain!"

"Dude, what the hell are you doing?!" Rico said.

"What are you worried about? No one's down here."

Angelo shook his head. "That's not the point, hombre. I don't like this. We got in here way too easy—we haven't seen a single security guard since we walked in, and there's no security even for this place, though it looks like they're doin' some strange shit down here. Somethin' doesn't feel right."

Rico said, "Hey, maybe it's like Graylon said—they just don't expect someone to slip in here. They probably haven't had anything like this happen before, so they're just not prepared. It will make finding Dr. Cain that much easier."

"If he's actually here," Monet added.

Everett looked around. "Ange's got a point. Add in the fact that we're cut off from everyone else, and it's almost like we walked into—"

"A trap? You don't know the half of it," a new voice emerged from the back of the room.

Lucas Arminthorpe threw a switch, lighting up the area he was standing in, displaying the fact that he wasn't alone. Four dangerous-looking teens flanked Lucas, two on the right and two on the left.

On his right stood a werewolf-like creature, tall, muscular, and hairy, baring sharp teeth as saliva dripped from its lip. It panted heavily as its dark eyes locked on the teens hungrily. Next to him was an ashen-skinned male, with dark orbs for eyes, disheveled black hair, and a wicked grin. The exposed parts of his body showed strange tattoos that emitted an evil aura. On the other side a fair girl with snow-white hair and cold azure eyes. Her breath came out in icy puffs as a cooling mist emanated from her exposed skin. And on the end, a male with a dulled, metallic skin tone and red eyes stared at the teens as if he were processing and calculating an infinite number of possibilities in matter of nanoseconds.

"Well, this is quite the welcoming party, Lucas!" Rico grinned as he surreptitiously slid the X-drive back into his pocket. He hoped the Paige had gotten all of the pertinent information that they needed, but even more so that they would get out of this situation without too much hardship. But from the looks of Lucas and his crew, they could only be so lucky.

"Always the happy-go-lucky one, right, Rico? So, are you going to introduce your new friends?"

"I would, but then again, you've been following us around for the past few weeks, so you should already know them."

"Everett Thomas. A boy with biosynchronistic aura used to duplicate not only mutant abilities but also normal biological functions and adaptations. Monet St. Croix, the perfect mutant—beautiful with the largest number of mutant abilities I've ever encountered. Angelo Espinosa, with six extra feet of mentally controllable skin. Not necessarily unbreakable, but quite durable and highly tensile. Synch, M, Skin, Meltdown, and Tempest. I'd like for you to meet Wolfen, Icyss, Flux, and Hellraiser. And I am Harbinger."

"You've been rehearsing that for a while, huh?" Rico joked.

Vincent took an aggressive step forward as an enflamed aura flickered around his body. "Where the hell is Dr. Cain?"

Lucas looked at him with curiosity and amusement. "And what makes you think I'm going to tell you?"

"I'll burn the flesh from your bones inch by inch until you talk."

"Hellrasier," Lucas said, the name sounding more like a command than a summons.

Chains zipped out from the shadows, snaking around the arms, legs and torsos of the teens, stretching them into borderline torturous positions as the chains tightened, anchored somewhere in the darkness.

Hellraiser let a pleasurable smile cross his thin lips as the teens tried their best not to cry out as they failed at their attempts to struggle. "There is no escape," Hellraiser darkly said.

_These chains aren't a part of his mutant power. What is this guy?_ Everett asked himself. He pulled against the frigid chains wrapped around his arms, but they only tightened in response. The chains didn't feel any different from normal ones, which meant that under intense heat, the metallic links would liquefy. But Vincent wouldn't be able to use his power precisely enough to melt the thick chains without running the high risk of burning them. But Everett knew that he could.

Extending his biosynchrostic aura, Everett tapped into Vincent's abilities, instantly gaining a complete understanding and control of how to use his ability. Not only could Vincent manipulate fire, but he could also control temperature. Focusing on the chains, he increased the internal temperature while extending the natural resistance to heat to the others. The chains melted under the pressure, the liquid metal evaporating under the intense temperatures he controlled, successfully freeing his teammates.

"My chains!" Hellrasier screamed.

"Vortex!" Everett commanded.

Without any other direction, Rico knew what he needed to do. Mustering his strength, he focused the air current in the room into a concentrated blast, creating the same effect as a wind tunnel. Lucas and his cohorts had no time to act as the wind cast them off of their feet and pinned them to the opposite wall. Around them, equipment and the like were caught in the attack, smashing against the wall and the floor.

He maintained the flow of air, letting it hit the wall then circulating it back around, which created a constant bombardment of wind powerful enough to keep the bad guys trapped at the opposite end of the room.

"Head back toward the elevator! Now!" Everett commanded. The five teens ran back through the lab and back into the elevator, just as Rico returned the air to normal.

"Sorry. I can't shift the air current for that long over a distance," he apologized.

Angelo smashed the first floor button and the elevator responded quickly as the doors immediately closed and it began to ascend.

As the wind died down, Lucas could move again. _He's much more powerful than before. Father will be glad to hear it,_ Lucas though to himself. To his team, he directed, "Do not let them escape."

Icyss responded first, making a mad dash for the elevator. Extending her hand, a frigid mist shot forth, encasing the door in ice. "Flux! I need that door opened."

"Affirmative," Flux replied in a monotone, flat voice. With a burst of speed, Flux launched forward with a punch, connecting solidly with the iced elevator door. The door shattered against the impact, leaving the elevator shaft exposed.

"Perfect," Icyss smiled as she laid a hand right inside of the door. Without much effort, Icyss channeled her power through her fingertips, a thick layer of ice spreading from her hand throughout the shaft at a rapid pace. Her freezing touch affected the elevator shaft almost immediately, encasing the entire compartment in ice, causing the elevator to grind to a screeching halt.

Reeling from the jolt of stopping, Rico asked, "What just happened? And why is it getting colder in here?"

"They're coming after us," Monet responded without hesitation.

"Come on," Angelo said as he pushed the button for the lobby rapidly, but the elevator refused to respond. Just as Angelo was about to groan, the lights flickered and went out, red emergency lights quickly taking the place of the florescent glow. In the distance, an alarm sounded.

"Now we've got no power," Rico said. "And what the hell is that alarm about?"

Monet staggered forward with a cry of pain, as she grabbed her head. Everett responded quickly, giving Monet a steady shoulder to lean against as she recomposed herself. "What happened? Was it a psychic attack?"

"No. I—I…it was a massive backlash of psychic energy. And I am absolutely sure that it came from Michael. But I am still unable to reach him."

Rico spun toward Everett. "Ev, we're not the only ones in trouble. The others—"

"I know," Everett said. "We've got to get out of here."

"Ice can't stand up to fire," Vincent said as held out his hand and flames appeared.

"If you commence with your impulsive plan of action, you'll kill us all. Your fire will sublimate the ice directly into steam, which will transform this metallic prison into a sauna. And because the metal will hold and reflect the heat, plus your fire sucking out the oxygen in this small compartment, we will suffocate and burn at the same time. Once you pass out, the ice will continue to invade the elevator and cool the metal down much too rapidly, causing it to crack and break. We'll then pummel to our deaths in the bottomless elevator shaft."

Rico frowned. "So there's no happy ending? Is that what I'm hearing?"

"Damn," Vincent cursed as he dissipated his flames. He wasn't sure if everything that Monet was saying was exactly right, but she was known for her intelligence and spot-on analysis of compounds and situations. He would be a fool to ignore it, but what the hell were they supposed to do? "Then come up with a better idea fast," he said.

As his mind raced through alternative plans, Everett took a deep breath and saw it emerge as an icy puff. "She's dropping the temperature," Everett said aloud. He thought about synching to Vincent, but he hadn't perfected the range of his synchronization. With them being in such a small space, Everett ran the risk of inadvertently synching to someone else. And he didn't know the results of trying to synch to two powers at once.

"So we're gonna freeze to death? Dios!" Angelo said. Though he should have been more worried, he wasn't. If there was one thing that he had learned since being with Generation X was that when it seemed that all the odds were stacked against them, something totally out of the blue would happen to give them the advantage. And once again, he was right.

Before anyone realized it, a blink sound filled the small elevator as a dark circle with a pink energy ring around its outer edges opened up beneath them, and then they were falling into it. Just as ice formed on the walls, ceiling, and floor, the mysterious portal closed, shunting the five members of Generation X through space to a destination unknown to them.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional


	25. Ambushed, Part 4

I.

Lily Madison squirmed anxiously on the couch, trying to concentrate on the R. L. Stine novel in her lap. The cover was interesting enough, depicting a cheerleader with a dark, almost evil expression etched into her otherwise delicate features. So far, the band of cheerleaders was falling victim to a series of mysterious, nearly fatal accidents after a happenstance interaction with a mysterious box. But as the time ticked by, her mind strayed from the events in the novel to the real-life events that were unfolding miles away.

Everett had suggested that she stay behind, probably because of her age or inexperience, though he said it was because of her ability to heal others. Despite wanting to go, she accompanied Paige back to the school to serve as a lookout for Sean and Emma, who were due back quite soon. She figured that her classmates would beat the faculty back, but when she heard the iron gates open, Lily knew that they were in trouble.

Sprinting all the way to the computer room, she was nearly out of breath and had to take a few gasps before warning Paige. "Paige? I think they're back."

Paige didn't even turn around as her hands continued to fly over the keyboard and different windows appeared on the screen, one of them being the security video showing the Frost Enterprises limo driving through the gate.

"I'm going to need you to keep them busy," Paige said, her mind racing with possibilities of trying to cover for her teammates. But she needed more time. "I can't contact them right now. I lost their signal almost as soon as they went into the Corporation."

Realizing the gravity of the situation and knowing that Paige was working as best she could to help them, Lily took off back to the living room just as Emma, Sean, and a new face walked into the front door.

She tried her best to smile, but her breathing was much too heavy from running and the anticipation of the teachers finding out what had happened before Paige could fix it. "Ms. Frost and Mr. Cassidy. Um…welcome home!" She heard her own shaky voice and awkward presentation and knew that they simply had to know something was wrong.

"Lass, yuir lookin' a wee pale. Is everythin' alright?"

"And why is this place so quiet?" Emma asked, the suspicion in her voice plainly evident. Her icy eyes searched the living room then wandered up the stairs, as she tried to pinpoint what seemed off.

"Everything is fine, Mr. Cassidy," Lily said but blushed as she said so. If anyone needed to lie about something, she was the absolute wrong person to send to do it. Any time she tried to even tell a small white lie, her face flushed, and her emerald eyes gave away that she wasn't telling the truth. She was painfully aware of her shortcomings in that arena, so she quickly averted her eyes, focusing on the new woman trailing closely behind Emma and Sean.

"Oh, are you a new teacher?" Lily asked, genuinely curious and thankful for a potential distraction.

Emma, still searching, replied, "She's going to be the school doctor, this is Dr. Cecelia Reyes."

"Dr. Reyes?" Lily repeated. "I'm Lily Madison. It's good to meet you."

"Likewise," Cecelia replied with a smile, her Puerto Rican accent clearly evident.

"Ach! Emma has a point, where're all th' other lads? Ah'm not used t' this much quiet," Sean chuckled.

Lily giggled nervously. "Well…we went to breakfast this morning, which was really good. The pancakes were—"

A shocked look overtook Emma, and she took an aggressive step towards Lily. "You've got five seconds to tell me where they all went, or I painfully snatch it from your head, little girl."

Taken aback, Sean placed a hand on Emma's shoulder. "Emma, tis no need t' chastise nor threaten th' lass. Did somethin' happen?"

"Mr. Cassidy, I'm sorry. They went to the Arminthorpe Corporation. Ethan thought it would be good for me to come back here with Paige."

Emma immediately understood. "Just in case they got hurt—have the team healer back at the base. And Paige is here because she's the resident expert with Cerebra. Rico's with them in the field, probably using all the gadgets to interface and communicate with Cerebra and Paige back here. How thoughtful of your team leader. I'll remember that as I'm grounding him for life."

Cecelia shook her head. "Ay, Dios. Even the kids can't keep themselves out of trouble for more than five minutes."

Lily looked as though she was going to cry. "It wasn't Ethan's fault. Dr. Cain is Graylon Walsh's uncle. He knew that we were looking for him, so he wanted help. We were only trying to help, Ms. Frost."

"You'll have plenty of time to explain since you all will never see the outside of these walls again—"

Emma's sentence was cut off as she stumbled forward, unable to maintain her balance as a white hot flash of pain erupted behind her eyes.

"Lass!" Sean shouted as he immediately reached to catch her. "Emma, what's wrong wit' ye?"

"Psychic…energy," Emma managed to respond. "I—I caught a portion of some kind of backlash. I think it was Lawson."

"Michael? By th' saints!"

Emma steadied herself. "Downstairs, now. And let's pray that we can find them before it's too late."

II.

Working under pressure wasn't easy, and Paige could only pray that Lily distracted Sean and Emma long enough for her to figure out how to get in contact with the rest of the students. All she really wanted to do is make sure they were okay—as long as that was true, they could easily make something up when the time came regarding their whereabouts. If anyone could tell a convincing lie, it was probably Monet, so Paige figured they would employ her fibbing ability when needed.

Paige almost fell out of her seat when the sound system emitted several high-pitched beeps, signaling something. When she investigated, she saw that though the signal was weak, Cerebra had a firm, positive lock on all of the team's geospatial coordinates. Heart racing, she kept her fingers crossed, praying the signal wouldn't drop off again.

Wheeling to the other console, her fingers pounded the keyboard as her mind now raced through various plans to cover for her missing in action teammates. But only seconds into pondering, she noticed another alert in the background of the screen. At first, she ignored it, more concerned about the situation at hand. But thinking twice about it, she maneuvered the touchpad and expanded the alerting window.

"Geospatial coordinates found for teleportation energy signature?" Paige whispered, reading the text across the screen aloud. Her curiosity outweighing her sense of urgency, she studied the coordinates, finding that they were totally unrecognizable. "Is it another dimension? Galaxy?" she again asked aloud. Typing out a sequence of commands, she queried the location nomenclature but wasn't too surprised when Cerebra came back with the message, _"cannot be found."_ After a few more keystrokes, a dialogue box appeared, asking for permission to replicate the mutant energy signature.

Stunned, Paige froze for a moment. She couldn't exactly remember Cerebro being able to do such a thing, let alone Cerebra. But then, she remembered from Xavier's files about Cerebro somehow gaining sentience and creating mutants patterned after various X-Men. And in that situation, the mutant abilities were replicated flawlessly. What would happen if she—

"Paige!"

The call made Paige jump, but she quickly replied back, recognizing the panicked voice. "Ethan! Vanguard! What's happening?!"

"Trouble—" Ethan's static-filled voice faded out.

The blood drained from Paige's face. "Ethan! Come in!" She checked the coordinates, which thankfully hadn't been lost, and saw that they were changing as the individuals moved. Then an idea struck her. If she could simply replicate the teleportation signature with their coordinates, then program in the school coordinates as the destination, it was quite possible that she could simply teleport them back.

Deciding there was no more time to waste, Paige sat up straight in her chair, as her fingers pounded the keyboard, typing out commands and code as if she had it memorized. "Okay, y'all. I'm bringing you back!" she announced as she hit the final keystroke. As the sequence began and the scripts displayed across the screen, Paige caught an anomaly that shouldn't have been there. Cerebra alerted her to an extra amount of mass being teleported from an additional coordinate.

_One of those Arminthorpe goons must've tagged along!_

"Mr. Cassidy! Ms. Frost! Anybody! I need you down here! NOW!" Paige yelled into the intercom system. Standing, she readied herself as the teleportation sequence ran, and accompanied by a distinguishable _blink_ sound, there was a flash of pink-hued energy before the rest of Generation X tumbled from the middle of the air onto the floor. Just then, Emma, Sean, Cecelia, and Lily burst into the room.

"Dios! Paige, what happened?!" Cecelia pressed. She immediately began to visually assess injuries, noting the abrasions and bruises some of the students had. The ones that really concerned her though were the unconscious students.

Paige shook her head frantically, nearly overwhelmed by what had happened. "I—I don't know. I lost the signal once they got to the building, but I—"

"Paige. Lily. Get to the med bay and get the equipment prepped." When Cecelia didn't see either one move immediately, she snapped. "Girls! I need you to move now!"

Paige barely heard Cecelia's voice as she fixated on a figure lying on the ground amongst the others. While some of them stirred, the figure was perfectly still, probably unconscious. She took a step forward, not sure that she believed her own eyes. The lavender skin and dark hair were unmistakable, yet…

Kneeling next to her, ignoring the rest of the bustle, Paige rolled the girl toward her, and gasped as the girl's tattooed face stared back at her, the same tattoos she remembered from that time. Her breath caught as she tried to speak, unsure of whether she was simply having a strange dream or experiencing a strange turn of events.

"Sean, I didn't mention that Cerebra alerted that there was another person teleporting into the school with them." Paige could feel Emma and Sean standing behind her, looking down on the figure as well, probably with the same disbelief and curiosity she felt. She kept her eyes locked on the girl, afraid that if she looked away, the girl would disappear.

"By the saints! Clarice?!" Sean exclaimed.

III.

"What did they take?" Mason Arminthorpe asked as he briskly strode into the main control room within the lower levels of the main Corporation building. The lab looked as though a tornado had torn through it, and the main elevator was apparently rendered inoperable. Though expected, the audacity of those kids still surprised him somewhat. And their powers had grown much more than initially predicted.

Lucas turned from the console that their technical wizard, Casey Chamberlain, was currently investigating. "Casey's still auditing the logs. Apparently, they used some kind of advanced technology, surpassing anything that we have here in order to access our system. Even he was impressed. And whoever was operating the system seems to be quite the expert."

Mason frowned. "Tracking them for all this time means nothing if they still manage to uncover our plans prematurely. Find out what they took. Find out what they know."

"Seems they're a force to be reckoned with," Casey mentioned without turning from the console. His fingers flew over the keyboard as code that only he understood panned across the screen. "I monitored all three of the battles, and honestly, our folks just lucked out. Those kids pack enough firepower to take down a small country."

Mason cracked a knowing smile. "And that's why I want them on my side when the war comes."

IV.

Emma sat with her hands in front of her mouth, fingers intertwined, staring back at Everett and Ethan. Neither one would meet her chastising glare though they both attempted a few times. The ebbing silence loomed over the trio like a heavy blanket, until finally, it was broken.

"If you're going to yell at us, just do it," Ethan impatiently said. Though he tried to soften it, his voice had a hard edge to it, mixed with fatigue and frustration.

Emma leaned forward. "You made a decision. People got hurt. Luckily, no one was seriously injured…or worse. I'm not going to yell or even lecture you—this time. I've made my share of choices that haven't ended like I originally intended. I won't tell you whether what you did was right or wrong, because it's not that cut and dry. I will tell you that our world is dangerous, and the wrong choice can lead to your teammates, friends, or family getting hurt. Or worse."

Emma continued, "I made a choice with Nightmare. And in the end, I hurt all of you in some way. I'm not proud of my decision, but I would do it again if it meant ultimately saving your lives. You all were extremely lucky—this time. Luck doesn't last forever. Being reckless and impulsive will do nothing but end your lives prematurely. It's happened already to some past students of mine. I won't let it happen to you. Even if it means keeping you within these walls until you wither away to dust, so be it."

Everett replied, "Ms. Frost, we didn't mean for any of this to happen. We just—"

"I already know, Everett. You were only trying to find their precious Dr. Cain, even at the expense of your own lives. How gallant and heroic. But you can't do anything for the dear doctor if you're dead, now can you? Only one of you is near invincible, but the rest of you are as frail and flimsy as any other human being. Keep that in mind when next time you decide to play X-Men or Avengers. Luckily, Charles, Scott, and Sean are taking care of the damage control with some help from Chief Authier."

"We didn't mean for it to happen like this," Everett softly said, not really knowing what else to say at this point.

"Of course you didn't," Emma stated. "I expect a full written report on the circumstances surrounding your little raid on the Arminthorpe Corporation. Sean and I will figure out how to divvy out the after-school extra chores. Now, if you don't want to spend the rest of the night thinking you were three-year-olds, I suggest you vacate my office quickly."

Without another word, Everett and Ethan rose and left, both obviously upset with the outcome of the situation and Emma's reaction. They walked down the hallway in silence, both wrapped in their own thoughts and reflection. As soon as they descended the stairs, the questions started.

"So what happened? What did she say?" Rico asked, referring to Emma.

"We're all grounded until we wither away within these walls. Ms. Frost's words," Everett relayed as he flopped down on the couch.

"Geez. Was it like that bad?" Jubilee asked. "Well, at least now, we can like make sure ol' Mr. Butler is gainfully employed. Since we're totally trapped here, he's gotta cook fer us."

"I guess that's the brighter side of things," Kiana stated.

Paige entered the room, rubbing the back of her neck. Her usually lively blue eyes were dim and reddened, as if she had been crying.

"Paige!"

_"Paige!"_

Ethan and Jono both called her name simultaneously, then after realizing it, they looked at each other, surprisingly, then with competitive anger. Paige saw both of their expressions and stopped, suddenly taken aback by their reaction. She wanted to say something, but no words world form.

"How is Clarice?" Angelo asked loudly, breaking the awkward silence blanketing the room.

"She—she's asleep right now. Dr. Reyes ran some biological tests with Dr. McCoy remotely. They confirmed her identity, but they're not sure what's wrong. Dr. McCoy thinks that maybe there was a backlash of energy because of the replication of her power. I mean, he said something a little more complicated than that, but that's all I could understand."

Angelo shook his head, not sure how to respond. He remembered Clarice as a timid girl, scared to use her own powers. But in the end, she used them to save the rest of them, inadvertently trapping herself within her power. Though Sean tried, he couldn't save her, and Clarice disappeared right before their eyes. There wasn't a day that went by that Angelo didn't reflect on that moment, remembering Clarice's sacrifice so they could live.

"So like, do they know what happened when she disappeared?"

Paige responded, "They don't really know. Rico said it himself, some teleporters use different ways to give the illusion of teleportation—what I mean is they actually cross over into another dimension in order to travel from one point to another. Nightcrawler, Magik, and Cloak are good examples. So we can only presume that the same is true with Clarice."

"So you think that she was somehow trapped in the dimension she uses to teleport through?" Ethan deduced.

"It's possible. But we won't know for sure until she wakes up. If she wakes up," Paige said, her eyes dropping. "If I hadn't mixed up the code, maybe she wouldn't be lying in the med bay right now."

"You can't beat yourself up over this," Vanessa consoled.

"She's right," Ethan chimed in. "Look, you saved all of us. We were in serious trouble on three fronts. I don't think any of us would be here now if you hadn't teleported us back here. And who knows, you could've saved her from a dangerous situation wherever she was too."

"Thanks," Paige pushed strands of her straw blond hair behind her ear, as she in a recliner away from Jono and Ethan, pulling her knees up to her chest. Despite Ethan's kind words, Paige couldn't help but to mull over the fact that she may have been responsible to Clarice's current condition. "I just hope she really is okay," she murmured into her knees.

"How's Michael?" Vanessa asked.

"I'm okay," he answered, appearing from the hallway in the same direction that Paige had come from. "Dr. Reyes checked me out. I just overexerted myself a little. She told me to get some rest and take it easy."

Ethan frowned. "What happened with Arminthorpe, Mike?"

He didn't want to get into yet another discussion with Ethan about his powers. But now, even Michael was concerned. He didn't know how he escalated his powers to such a level that he could not only manipulate energy but also sense and see everything around him down to the molecule. And he didn't even want to mention the strange encounter with whatever it was.

Whatever power he had wielded then was gone now, and he felt no different than before his battle with Arminthorpe. He couldn't see the molecules of anything, and he was quite sure that he wouldn't be able to deflect any type of energy.

"Nothing," he replied, avoiding the knowing glance Ethan was giving him.

Graylon gave a snide grin, sensing that Michael was avoiding something. To that, he said, "Well, I thought for a second that I was watching the Clash of the Titans. Ol' Mikey here was—"

"Enough!" Michael said as a door slammed behind Graylon. "I said I didn't want to talk about it."

"That doesn't mean that I can't."

Sensing the tension, Jubilee jumped in. "So what're ya like hangin' around here for, Blondie?"

"My uncle's still being held captive by the Arminthorpe Corporation, since you guys failed to rescue him. Why don't you try to be a little more sensitive?"

"Well, why doncha try ta like be less of an as—"

Vanessa said, "Look, I'm sorry things turned out the way they did, Graylon. But what are you going to do now?"

"I don't know. My uncle's still gone, and all we know now is that Arminthorpe is definitely behind it. Other than that, we've got nothing. I can't even go to the police with this. Chief might believe me, but they won't be able to do a damn thing. And now, it's clear that Arminthorpe knew I was involved all along, so I haven't really been safe this entire time. But I don't think he's going to go after me directly, even after what happened today. But Niles…I don't want to even think about what's being done to him."

Everett laid a consoling hand on Graylon's shoulder, but he quickly wriggled from under it, standing up quickly. "Well, I'm not letting up on any of you. You're going to help me save my uncle. Because I believe that if he wouldn't have been mixed up with you, he wouldn't be in this mess right now."

Rico frowned. "Hey, newsflash. We didn't go to your uncle. He came to us. For all we know, he was in all this research neck-deep, just as guilty as Mason."

Graylon challenged Rico with a hard stare. "Don't put Niles in the same boat as that monster. Whatever's going on, he didn't know about it. He's just a victim of circumstance."

"I think we're the victims of circumstance in this situation. The more we find out, the more I question what the Corporation was doing and what work Dr. Cain was actually involved in," Ethan said.

"Question all you want, but I'm going to be on your case until you figure it out and get him back. Otherwise, I'll make sure this school goes down in media flames," Graylon shot. He punctuated his statement by spinning on his heel, storming past Sean. With a wall-rattling slam, Graylon exited through the front door.

"Ach! Did ye say somethin' t' th' lad?" Sean asked as he approached the teens.

"No, we just have a lot of attitudes around here lately," Everett said matter-of-factly.

Sean rubbed the back of his neck, glancing over the teens. They all looked worn down and tired, and his heart went out to them. In some way, even the new ones felt like extensions of his own family, like his own children. And it pained him to see them this way.

"So yuir plan dinnae turn out like ye thought, eh?"

"No. It doesn't ever seem to turn out as planned," Ethan replied. "Everything was a complete mess. We didn't find Dr. Cain. And we were all defeated by those mutants in the Corporation."

Everett added, "They caught us completely off guard. We didn't go there to cause trouble. But those guys were out for blood."

"Ye were defeated. It happens t' th' best o' us. But tis nae th' end o' th' world. Ah think th' lot o' ye learned a few valuable lessons today, ones that ye cannae learn within these walls. Ye may be grounded, but think about what happened today and how t' handle it when it happens again tomorrow. Fer now, get some rest…school starts tomorrow."

With that, Sean gave them a fatherly smile before disappearing into the hallway leading to his room.

Ethan thought for a moment, then slammed his fist on the arm of the chair he was in. "Sean's right. We can't give up. I don't care how many times we get grounded, the Arminthorpe Corporation is hiding something huge. And if we don't do something, they're going to do something that's going to hurt many more people."

Michael shook his head. "But at this point, all we can do is wait for them to make their move."

"And that's why we're going to train everyday," Everett said, making eye contact with everyone. "So when they do make their move, we'll be ready. We'll be ready for whatever challenges come our way. Because we're here, together as a team. We're Generation X and giving up isn't what we do."

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional


	26. In the Blink of an Eye

I.

On Sunday night, most of the students and faculty within the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters rested within the security of warm blankets and soft mattresses. However, there was a fraction of a handful that rebelled against sleep, determined to discover things about themselves that before now seemed elusive and foreign.

"Again," Michael Lawson commanded through gritted teeth. Beads of sweat trickled down the side of his face as his dark eyes fixated on the laser pointed at him. Internally, he focused his thoughts, as he had several times up to this point, to use his telekinesis against an energy attack.

Before his fight with Arminthorpe, he bought into the fact that energy was intangible, therefore unable to be averted or manipulated by any physical force, even telekinesis. However, when he found himself impossibly repelling a rather forceful energy-based attack, he was floored, unable to fully believe that he could actually apply psionic force to something that was otherwise impossible to touch. Now, as he stood before the laser, bruised from the multitude of direct hits he had taken, he seriously doubted that he could recreate the phenomenon, let alone actually control energy at a consistent level.

Before him, a high-tech laser gathered in molecules of glowing energy, which condensed into a single globe of energy. In the next split second, the light pulsed then launched forward in a highly concentrated beam. Michael projected his thoughts forward, trying and failing to alter its trajectory. Upon impact, there was a flash and pressure as the force knocked him onto the frigid, metallic floor. Pain reverberated through his entire body, and as he laid there, the edge of fatigue, frustration, and pain eroded his will to try one more time.

"Abort program."

Surprised by another undetected presence, he managed to turn his head slightly and saw Emma Frost standing in the doorway with her arms crossed and a cold expression on her face.

"I'm not fond of students using the Danger Room to explore their masochist inclinations," she said.

If he had the strength, Michael would have rolled his eyes and retorted with a sharp comment. But with his vitality waning, he just gave an almost inaudible sigh of agitation as he clambered to his feet. He rotated his arm, feeling twinges of soreness in his shoulder and chest, then focused his attention on Emma.

"I couldn't sleep," he half-heartedly replied, but even as he said it, it sounded flimsy and hollow. And Emma's expression told him it was.

But, instead of chastising him, she replied, "You have an exceptional amount of power, Lawson. But something's holding you back."

"Isn't that what we're supposed to be learning here—restraint?"

"Control," Emma corrected. "There's a difference."

"Right," he wistfully replied.

Noting his demeanor, she switched her investigative tactics. "So why exactly were you in here blasting yourself with a laser?"

Michael knew the question was coming sooner or later. He had successfully avoided Ethan's inquiries on his powers over the past few weeks, and he completely avoided any questions that Vanessa may have had. But eventually, he knew that an explanation was in order, especially after what happened at the Arminthorpe Corporation.

He shifted his weight uncomfortably, wincing at the bruises already forming on his chest and abs. "When we fought Arminthorpe, something happened. I'm not sure what exactly, but I could…I don't know…it was like I could control energy with my telekinesis. It was crazy, because I thought that I could only affect physical things. But now, I can't. And there was something else…" Michael trailed off.

Emma cocked a brow. "Care to elaborate on this something else?"

"Not really," he quickly replied. He wasn't sure whether Emma was actually concerned or if she was probing for a completely different reason. Either way, he now wished that he had waited a little longer to reveal what happened as he watched Emma's face transform from concerned to dark curiosity.

"You know," she began as she took slow, deliberate steps around him. "I'm not fond of my students keeping secrets. Those secrets usually come back in the form of disgruntled, evil family member or some circumstance that places the entire school in danger."

"Yeah, like the deal with your sister?" he retorted.

"Touché. But the fact remains, Monet's secrets were dangerous, so I won't make the same mistake of underestimating yours. If you won't tell me, well…there's always the hard way."

Michael was surprised when Emma stopped pacing and faced him head-on. At that moment, he knew that they were locked in a showdown of sorts, but he was the one with a clear disadvantage. He figured that any member of the faculty should be able to singlehandedly wallop any one of the students, if not all of them, at the same time. If she wanted to pick through his brain, he knew there wasn't much he could do to stop it.

"You're going to invade my mind?" he inquired, as if he didn't already understand what Emma was clearly stating. Right now, he could either buy himself some time to think of how to get out of this situation or do his best to sweet-talk her. "I thought we were learning restraint."

She corrected, "Control."

"Well then, shouldn't you show some control _and_ restraint, and stay out of my head?"

"Are you going to stop me?"

There was a hint of a challenge in her voice, something that made Michael uncomfortable. At the same time, blood rushed to his face, and he felt as though he were going to burst into flames at any moment. "You're making a mistake. I'm not hiding anything."

"Then there shouldn't be any problem with me finding out for myself, right?"

Michael knew that he wasn't getting out of the situation until Emma was satisfied. She had no reason to mistrust him, but he knew that she wasn't going to allow any circumstances that could be potentially dangerous remain uninvestigated. He had no choice but to comply, whether he liked it or not.

"Go ahead then," he replied, mustering strength that he didn't have.

He barely had time to brace himself as a dull pain surfaced at the front of his head. He saw Emma's eyes burn a subtle pink hue as she brought her hand to her temple, the most common outward sign that a psychic was using his or her power. A tingling sensation rippled through somewhere inside his skull, and though it wasn't exactly painful, it felt slightly uncomfortable. As the seconds wore on, he felt a dull pressure in his head and a throbbing headache surface.

Michael was ready to object, noticing Emma's rigid expression. But he thought twice about it and decided to let her continue until she was done. But he didn't know how much longer he could withstand the now dizzying headache pulsing behind his eyes. Hopefully, she would be done before he completely blacked out.

Emma knew the effects of her probe on Michael, but she had to risk hurting him to make sure there wasn't a much larger danger that could hurt them all. Surprising to her, she ran into several formidable mental blocks, keeping her from seeing certain memories or thoughts. Considering the level of her ability, she was surprised she couldn't break through them. And using too much force would do more damage than good, so she simply left those areas untouched.

However, before she finished, she detected a remotely familiar thought pattern, something other than Michael's. But before she could probe any deeper, a wall of resistance pushed her away, blocking any further mental investigation. Then, without warning, a blue-hued energy erupted from his head and shot forward as a psi-bolt, which found its target with ease. Piercing Emma directly in the chest, it threw her backwards, a combination of both psychic and telekinetic energy.

Surprised at how fast everything had happened, Michael's apprehension and agitation drained away as the pain suddenly stopped, and Emma hit the floor hard. For a moment, he was paralyzed with disbelief. Michael had never done anything like that before, and for just a moment, he wondered if he had somehow tapped into a much stronger power than his own. Though he had used a similar attack against Mina Laroché, the sheer force behind the attack was something new and, in a way, exciting. But he couldn't understand how or why he had lashed out at Emma.

He half-ran, half-floated to her side. "Ms. Frost! I—I don't know what happened. I—"

Emma threw up a silencing hand as she rubbed the back of her neck, which had already begun to stiffen. "It's fine. I still haven't learned to keep my guard up with you children. I figure that barbaric attack was your own form of psychic defense."

He stood next to her, embarrassed, worried, and even a little frightened. "I didn't even know I could do something like that."

She stood, brushing dust off her gleaming white pants. "There are many things that you children are capable of that you just don't realize. But I know, and so do other people out there. It's the reason why you're here—so you can understand your full potential."

"My full potential?" Michael repeated, thinking back to the feeling that rushed through him as he could feel objects down to the molecule. And just now, though he felt a deep remorse for attacking Emma, somewhere else, there was a feeling of excitement and a desire to do more. More than he had ever done before. Was that his full potential? And wouldn't power like that be dangerous?

To Emma, he said, "I'm not quite sure that I want to know my full potential. I mean, honestly, moving things with my mind is cool, but right now, all it's brought me is trouble. I don't talk to my parents, there's a corporation after us, and we're been defeated in every battle so far. Not exactly a highlight of my life, Ms. Frost."

"There are far worse things that could have happened."

"Yeah. I could have gotten killed about ten times up to this point." he sighed heavily and shook his head. "Being a mutant doesn't automatically make me an X-Man, let alone a hero. Maybe I can't—"

"You can't if you don't want to. This isn't going to be easy. But you have something that makes you valuable to a whole lot of people both good and evil. If you don't consciously use your powers for the better, someone will find you and use you for the worst."

"You say it's not easy, but you make it sound so cut and dry."

"At the end of the day, it really is that cut and dry. Now, you should head to bed, Mr. Lawson. Your lack of sleep won't be an excuse for tardiness."

"Yes, ma'am," Michael replied, despite wanting to talk more. For the first time, he actually felt like Emma was mentoring him as opposed to chastising him. But he could also tell that she had discovered something in his mind that concerned her. As he walked out of the Danger Room, he wondered exactly what it was and if it had anything to do with the strange voice he heard before.

Once Michael left the room, Emma called out to Sean telepathically. _"Sean, get in touch with Hank and the Professor. And as much as I loathe her, ensure Jean Grey comes with them. I'm sure she would be interested to know about this."_

_"What's wrong?"_ Sean groggily replied, obviously jolted out of his slumber.

_"It's too early to say. But I can't take a chance, not after what I saw. We'll brief them tomorrow and have him examined after school."_

_"Aye. Tis somethin' we need t' be concerned about?"_

_"Without a doubt."_

II.

Paige Guthrie leaned against the wall as she peered through the window in the door of the med bay recovery room. She watched the blinking lights of the machines then let her eyes wander to the girl lying on the bed, connected to those machines. "Clarice," she whispered, wondering if the girl could even remotely hear her.

Since Clarice's unexpected arrival and subsequent placement in the med bay, Paige had gone down almost every fifteen minutes to check on her. And though Hank and Cecelia both assured her that Clarice would be fine and that what happened wasn't Paige's fault, she couldn't bring herself to agree with either statement. Guilt racked her brain as she almost obsessively played the whole situation over again in her mind, trying to figure out if she could have done something differently that wouldn't have hurt Clarice.

Just as Paige began to wade through the series of events for the hundredth time, a voice cut through her thoughts.

"I figured you'd be down here," Ethan Callaghan announced as he approached her. "How is she?" He peered through the window past Paige then frowned with concern.

"She still hasn't woken up. Dr. McCoy says there's nothing wrong. I—I just wish she'd open her eyes. I wish I could talk to her. I wish I knew that she would be fine."

Ethan turned from the window and met Paige's blue eyes. "What about you? Are you okay?"

Paige lowered her eyes. "Yeah. I guess," she sighed heavily then turned her eyes upwards. "I mean—yeah. I'm fine."

He could tell she was trying to be strong. For the team. For herself. More than anything, he respected her resilience and concern for her teammates. "You sure?" he asked, not in a doubtful way but more from a worried teammate standpoint.

Paige pushed her hair behind her ear, not usually comfortable with facing her own inadequacies. "No. No, I'm not."

"Talk to me, Paige. Tell me what's going on. This isn't just about Clarice, is it?"

"I think I'm just having a moment. I try to be strong...that's what a leader has to do. But it just gets so hard. And now with Clarice..." she caught herself. "I'm sorry. I'm rambling...I..."

"It's okay. You can talk to me. You can talk to me about anything, and I'll listen."

Feeling her face grow warm, Paige suddenly felt like a school girl with a crush. "I appreciate it," she whispered. Before she knew what she was doing, Paige reached out and caressed Ethan's face. "And thank you for caring."

Ethan closed his eyes and focused on the soft touch of her fingertips. He could feel her warmth pouring from her hands, and her gentle caress sent surges through his body. Before he even knew what he was doing, Ethan leaned forward, touching his lips against hers. Though he shouldn't have been, the softness of her lips surprised him and the gentle return of that kiss surprised him even more.

"Ahem."

The interruption startled Paige and Ethan, both realizing the implications of what had just happened. Throwing a startled glance in the direction of the interruption, they froze as a familiar, blue-furred doctor's eye scolded them over spectacles.

"Dr. McCoy!" Ethan reflexively said, feeling the rush of blood to his face. "We were just—" he tried to explain, but Hank simply shook his head, cutting him off.

"Ah, yes. The birds and the bees. An eloquent dichotomy of beauty and peril that blossoms in almost a storybook manner. My own life experiences have introduced me to the tale, and I am well aware of the happenstance transpiring before my rather timely interruption." He punctuated the last sentence with a knowing glance, glazed with an overtone of scolding.

"Hank!" Paige exclaimed, her face a deep red. "It wasn't anything like that! I just wanted to check on Clarice!"

"And I wanted to check on her," Ethan added, referring to Paige. "I mean, she's been having a hard time with all of this."

"Then the proverbial one thing led to another," a large smile spread across Hank's bestial visage. "Though you are not youngsters, I would beg to argue that it is much past your curfew. I shall chaperone the two of you to your respective rooms to prevent any more checks on each other."

Thoroughly embarrassed, Paige gave Ethan an unreadable glance before storming past Hank.

"After you, young man," Hank waved his hand as an offer for Ethan to stay within his sight.

Ethan opened his mouth to say something, but a head shake from Hank stopped him abruptly, and Ethan simply fell in behind Paige.

While the three of them made their way down the hallway, inside of the med bay recovery room, Clarice Ferguson stirred.

III.

Clarice Ferguson's whole body felt as though it had been put through a blender. As her eyes flickered open, struggling to adjust to the dim lighting, she attempted to move her arm and found that something held her back. Moaning, she turned her head slightly, discovering that she was connected to foreign machines that beeped and lit up on their own respective beats.

"Where—?" she groaned, surprised that her own voice was so cracked and dry. Chancing a slow glance back and forth, she was alone in a sterile room. Aside from the machines, there was a small chair and wall locker on the other side of the rather small room. No windows to the outside. A door with a viewing window. Where the hell was she?!

Moving gingerly, Clarice removed the monitors from her arm, unknowingly causing an alarm to go off upstairs. She slid out of the bed carefully, still trying to recover her balance. Noting that she was in a hospital gown, she tried to remember what had happened. How had she gotten here? The more she tried to remember, the hazier it got.

She shook off her disorientation then made her way to the wall locker and opened it to find her green outfit hanging and boots resting on the floor. She changed quickly, leaving the gown crumpled on the floor, then pressed herself against the door, chancing a glance into the hallway. No one there.

Clarice didn't want to attempt to teleport, especially in a foreign place—there was no telling where she would end up. "Guess I have to do this the old fashioned way," she said aloud, as she prepped to fight her way out.

IV.

Paige could still feel the hot embarrassment burning her face and ears as she climbed the stairs, followed closely by Ethan with Hank at the back. She felt like a school girl, caught by a teacher in the middle of some wrongdoing. _Well, it is an accurate description, _she wistfully thought to herself. Though she didn't necessarily feel that there was any wrongdoing going on.

And at least they hadn't blown up half the school.

Paige thought about saying something to break the uncomfortable silence, but she didn't trust herself to say anything helpful at all. She simply continued her stride until a foreign sound stopped her in her tracks.

She threw Hank a confused glance. "What—what's that?"

Hank glanced around, confused himself, until he seemed to suddenly recognize the repetitive, wavering alarm. "My stars and garters. The med bay alarms are sounding."

Ethan repeated, "The med bay alarms?" It was the first he had heard of them. He figured that he could ask Rico about it later, since he seemed to know about every gadget and device Forge installed and left for them. Focusing, Ethan, slightly confused, turned to Hank. "But the only person down there is Clarice. And she was resting. Do you think it's a false alarm?"

Hank rubbed his chin for a moment. "Forge built this system. There's no such thing as a false alarm," Hank said as he turned on his heel and bounded towards the stairs heading toward the med bay.

"I'm going too!" Paige exclaimed. Without waiting for Ethan to try to stop her, she bolted back towards the stairs, her rapid heartbeat drowning out his rapid footsteps right behind her. Nearly stumbling down the stairs, she reached the bottom and froze, causing Ethan to nearly ram into her.

"Paige, what's—" he began. But when he followed her gaze, Ethan cut his sentence short and stared in disbelief.

At the end of the hallway, Clarice Ferguson stood, an expression of deadly intent tangled with a hint of fear. "I don't know who you are, but I suggest you get out of my way."

"Cl—Clarice?" Paige stammered. For a moment, she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Not only was Clarice up and about, but this also wasn't the timid girl that she remembered. Her stance and voice demanded attention and respect—the girl now standing before them was confident. And possibly lethal.

Hank spoke in an attempt to diffuse the situation. "Welcome back to the land of the living, young lady. I'm Dr. Hank McCoy—"

"Monster!" Clarice cried. She whipped her hands around then suddenly brandished her trademark short javelins as if they were claws, charged with a pink-hued energy. Without hesitation, Clarice grunted as she threw them with deadly intent.

Paige watched in horror as Hank threw himself in front of her and Ethan, the javelins finding their mark in Hank's broad chest. For a fraction of a second, she swore that Hank's entire body split off at hundreds of random angles then instantaneously reformed. With a grown, Hank went down hard.

"Beast!" Paige cried as she immediately kneeled down at his side. She could see Hank's chest still moving up and down as he breathed, which gave her only a slight feeling of relief. Snapping her head up, Paige addressed Clarice. "Don't do this! We're not going to hurt you!"

"Then that makes this a lot easier!" Clarice said. More javelins appeared and sailed noiselessly towards Paige and Ethan. This time though, they collided with an amber shield and with a loud _zap_, the javelins disintegrated, their own energy turned against them. Cecelia felt the backlash of the colliding energies, but it wasn't enough to take her out of the fight.

"Dr. Reyes?" Paige said, surprised that Cecelia was the originator of the protective barrier. Up to this point, Paige was totally unaware that the good doctor was a mutant, but then the stories about Cecelia's introduction into the X-Men came back to her. Surprisingly, the doctor didn't seem to be all that reluctant to use her powers, but it was her job to save people, and in this situation, Paige was thankful for her timely intervention.

Quickly assessing the situation, Cecelia realized that they were at a clear disadvantage. Hank was down. Clarice posed herself aggressively towards them, meaning they had a fight on their hands, no matter what they said. Judging from Ethan's stance, he was ready to fight back, but she was sure that at this point, he wasn't a match for someone that could obviously fight and was scared. And Paige's rather passive power couldn't stand up to Clarice's spatial displacement ability. Even Cecelia could only withstand so much impact to her shield, as she already felt her strength waning from earlier attack.

"You two, get upstairs now!" Cecelia commanded, keeping a close eye on Clarice. She would rather Ethan and Paige get upstairs and get help as opposed to engaging in a battle in the cramped corridor. "I can handle this myself."

"No, you can't," Ethan said, still facing Clarice. "Keep that shield around me, doctor. I'll make her listen to reason." Without waiting for the argument that he knew was coming from both Paige and Cecelia, he bolted forward.

Of course, Cecelia tried to object, shouting over Paige's warning to Ethan, but the boy had already pressed forward. She didn't know what he was planning, but whatever it was, she hoped that Ethan didn't get himself hurt. And she made a mental note to give him quite the lecture when things settled down. In the meantime, Cecelia concentrated on extending her shield, keeping it about a foot in front of Ethan as he sprinted down the hallway, tapping into his own heightened speed.

Clarice was ready for a fight, and when Ethan charged toward her, her full lips curled in an anticipatory smile. Such a bullheaded charge was nothing short of amateurish—she had been trained to fight by the best, and if that was how Ethan engaged her in battle, there was no way that would win against her. She was more than confident as her attacker closed the distance between them.

"You may be protected from the front," she stated as another _blink_ echoed through the corridor, and she leaped forward into a circular portal with pink energy dancing around its edges. Almost instantaneously, Ethan heard Clarice grunt as a hard, solid kick struck him in the back of his neck long before he even thought of turning around. Caught completely off-guard, Ethan pitched forward as pain shot through his neck and head. Darkness crept in from the corners of his eyes as he hit the cold, unforgiving floor. _Damn!_ he cursed to himself as he climbed to his hands and knees, trying desperately to shake off the looming unconsciousness.

"Dios!" Cecelia gasped, realizing far too late that Ethan's bullheaded charge was foolish at best, considering Clarice's teleportation ability. She pulled her shield back and postured it in front of her and Paige, and shouted, "Leave him alone. You're making a mistake, girl. We're not trying to hurt you."

"Yeah," Clarice gave a dismissive glance toward Ethan, who struggled to get to his feet. "Right." She beamed over her quick win, and the glint in her eyes said she was ready for more.

"Ethan!" Paige cried out, but then turned her focus to Clarice, who now faced both she and Cecelia. "Clarice," she said and slowly rose from her place beside an unconscious Hank. "Please don't do this!"

Her lavender, pupil-less eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Paige thought that there was a momentary sense of recognition. But it passed, and Clarice dashed at full speed toward her and Cecilia. But just as Paige thought the girl was going to run the both of them down, Clarice teleported behind them, then darted up the stairs.

Paige took a deep breath, her heart still racing. "Dr. Reyes, make sure Ethan and Hank are okay. I'm going after her."

"You're not going anywhere. She's dangerous, and you're not equipped to handle her."

"She's scared. I have to talk to her...I don't care about the danger. I've been in worse situations.

"No. You saw what happened to Ethan. Paige, she—"

"Let me go."

Paige's eyes burned with determination, and Cecelia couldn't deny the girl's sincerity or passion. Going against her better judgment, she lowered her amber shield, and Paige took off, disappearing around the corner before she could give another piece of cautionary advice.

Cecelia pulled out her communicator, quickly tapped into the school's intercom system, and announced, "Patient Clarice Ferguson has left the med bay. Proceed with caution as patient is disoriented and dangerous." She hoped the others were familiar enough with Clarice's abilities, that they didn't engage her head-on. She was sure that if they did, Clarice's next attack would have a much graver outcome.

On the floor above, Clarice heard the announcement echoing through the building. Smiling to herself, she said, "Disoriented, no. Dangerous, totally."

V.

Paige took the steps two at a time, only remotely hearing Cecelia's warning over the intercom system. Her mind raced through what to do if she managed to corner Clarice. She took out Hank way too easily, and obviously, her fighting skills were well above average. Though Paige had been taking her hand-to-hand combat lessons with Sam, her brother, and Sean seriously, she knew that she wouldn't fare well against someone with Clarice's skill.

Regardless, her heart told her she needed to reach Clarice and somehow make her remember, in spite of personal danger. And that's exactly what she intended to do.

VI.

"Ach. Sleep tis hard t' come by 'round here," Sean said aloud as he slid into a pair of jeans. Only moments ago, the med bay alarm resounded though his room, jolting him out of his sleep. Granted only about thirty minutes before that, Emma had interrupted his sleep with a cryptic message about one of the students, Michael Lawson.

When Forge first installed Cerebra, he also equipped the school with an intricate alarm system, routing most of the alerts into certain areas of the school and personal living areas, including Sean's bedroom. It seemed like a good idea, but now Sean wondered if it actually was. _If it goes off every time there's a slight disturbance, Ah'll ne'er get a full night o' rest, _Sean thought.

Barefoot and shirtless, Sean ran down the hallway, figuring that the alarm was either a malfunction or something miniscule that would be handled within minutes. However, when he heard Cecelia's intense warning, he knew that things were much more serious.

He rounded the corner into the living room to find Clarice standing in the middle, surveying her opponents carefully. Paige blocked the path to the med bay, still breathing heavily. Emma had responded as well and now stood in the hallway leading to the Danger Room. Angelo, Everett, and Jubilee carefully edged down the stairs as Monet flew over the balcony and hovered about a foot off the floor, surveying and analyzing the scene carefully.

_"Seems Clarice has woken up,"_ Emma telepathically informed Sean.

Sean frowned, _"Thank ye fer th' news flash."_

Clarice turned the corner of her mouth upwards in a sinister manner. "Here's the plan: I'm going to leave this place. And anyone that stands in my way will get hurt. Badly. Questions?"

Sean frowned then projected his thoughts to Emma. _"Th' lass means business. Can ye try t' talk to her?"_

_"No, Sean. I'm simply standing here, gracing the room with my presence and enjoying the show."_

Emma's sarcastic tone was frustrating, but at the same time, Sean knew that concern racked her as well. And she was probably formulating some way of ensuring no one got hurt. He just wished she would share that knowledge with him. Right now, they all were at a significant disadvantage, considering Clarice's ability. In the literal blink of an eye, she could cause anyone of them significant harm.

"Clarice," Paige calmly said as she took a slow step forward, holding her hands out in a peaceful gesture. "No one wants to hurt you."

She shot Paige a threatening glance. "You saw what I did to your boyfriend. Don't make me hurt you too." She smiled as Paige froze, her face reddening in embarrassment. Clarice noticed that all of the people that surrounded her now seemed like they had just rolled out of bed. Despite the grave situation Clarice thought herself to be in, these people were nonthreatening and honestly, much more passive than she would have expected.

Despite her intentions to escape, something kept bothering Clarice. These people, they all seemed somehow familiar, though she couldn't understand exactly why. At this point, she could have easily teleported out of the seemingly normal mansion, but the nagging feeling began to override her sense of survival.

"Someone is going to tell me what this place is and how I got here," Clarice demanded, brandishing more charged mini-javelins. "Then I'm going to leave without any more trouble. Got it?"

Everett followed Paige's lead and took a friendly, nonaggressive step forward. "You're at the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters." He thought about synching to her ability, but he was still too close to the others. If he tried to get too close to Clarice, he knew she would react offensively. All he could do was to try to use words to diffuse the situation somewhat. "We're in Snow Valley. Massachusetts. This is just a school, and we're students."

Clarice's expression told Everett that she had rejected his story and was ready to make an example out of him to get the answers she wanted. He braced himself for an attack, but Paige managed to step in once again.

"Clarice—" Paige softly said.

Clarice snapped her head towards Paige, pointing a charged mini-javelin at her. "Stop talking to me like you know me."

"But I do," Paige quickly retorted. "_We_ do. You don't remember, do you?"

"Remember what?" Clarice roughly asked.

"We were kidnapped by the Phalanx—you, Monet, Angelo, and I." Paige pointed to each of them, hoping that seeing their faces would jog some kind of memory. She wasn't sure exactly how or why they were all here, but Paige was thankful that they were there.

"Kidnapped? The Phalanx?" Clarice repeated with a tone of disbelief. "Don't lie to me!"

Jubilee chimed in, catching Paige's cue. "Dude, it's not like a lie or anythin'. The Phalanx is this totally lame alien race that wants ta like absorb folks inta their collective or whatever. It's just like what they do. And we were like next on tha list."

Paige smiled tenderly. "You were so scared back then."

"Truth be told, chica, so was I," Angelo added, hoping to break the tense atmosphere.

"We all were," Everett agreed. "But I think in the end, you were the bravest one, Clarice."

After hearing all of them talk, Clarice felt something change. It was small, and almost unnoticeable, but she felt that the moment of recognition from earlier had become a distinct feeling of remembrance. Suddenly, the people around her didn't seem so threatening or foreign. No, she knew these people. And they knew her.

"Harvest. He wanted to kill everything," Clarice lowered her javelins as her voice lowered. "Back then, I was naïve. I was simply horrified that anyone or thing could have so much hatred and disregard for human life. I swore I'd never use my power against a living being. But Harvest..." Clarice trailed off.

Like a slide show, the images slowly flashed through her mind, bringing back memories that she didn't even know she had. For years, she had questions, but suddenly, the answers were appearing before her. An overwhelming feeling of vertigo hit Clarice, and she fought it back, wanting to remember everything.

Clarice continued to voice the scenes running through her mind. "No one else could defeat him. The Phalanx could adopt and evolve to counteract most mutant powers. But my spatial displacement was random and was the thing that ultimately defeated him. Mr. Cassidy," Clarice looked up and made contact with the Irishman. "You reached for me, but I couldn't feel you."

Sean quietly replied, "Ah thought ye were lost t' us forever."

"You—you were there...reaching for me then..." Clarice trailed off as the dizziness took over, and she succumbed to the solace of darkness, temporarily forgetting about the confusion swirling about in her head. She crumpled to the floor, and almost immediately, Sean and Paige were by her side, while the others looked on with concern and confusion.

Everett was the first to break the silence that fell over the group. "Is she going to be okay?"

Emma strode closer to the students while Sean and Paige tended to Clarice. "She had a mental block, preventing her from remembering that whole event. While you all prattled on, I simply broke down that mental block so she would remember. But I didn't have the luxury of time...think of it as a broken dam of thoughts suddenly flooding her mind."

Jubilee crossed her arms and attempted a judgmental glare. "Like, geez, Frostie. Way ta like utilize finesse an' all that jazz ta get the job done. Real sympathetic-like."

Emma dismissed her comment with a look that could have shattered stone. "She'll be fine after a good night's rest. Clarice was scared and willing to take down anyone that stood in her way, like both Hank and Ethan. I'd rather not have to deal with an injured bunch of teenagers. Besides, I don't want any of you late for class because you got hurt trying to fight Clarice, who seems to be quite the formidable fighter."

After checking her pulse and breathing, Sean determined that Clarice was fine—she had only fainted. With Paige watching, Sean lifted Clarice in his arms, almost surprised at how light the girl was. "Emma, any idea where th' lass has been?"

"There's no telling," Emma replied, shaking her head. "Her mind is fractured—I couldn't see anything after we lost her. Let's get her back to the med bay. Hopefully, she won't feel the need to attempt another jailbreak. As for the rest of you, just as I told Mr. Lawson earlier, a lack of sleep will be no excuse for your tardiness."

As Sean, with Clarice in his arms, and Paige headed toward the lab, Emma noticed the other students still lingering. Without really trying, Emma could feel the thoughts of disbelief, concern, and curiosity coursing through the remaining students. Except Monet.

Monet lowered herself to the floor, giving Emma a sharp glare. "I would interject that my peaceful and necessary slumber was interrupted by your rather rude psychic intrusion. Unlike my cousin, the circumstance of my potential tardiness for class would be wholly your fault, of which you should undoubtedly take the blame. From a holistic perspective, I fail to see the purpose of our presence in this circumstance. You, Paige, and Sean would have handled this situation efficiently enough."

Yawning, Emma replied, "I figured a few familiar faces would help jog her memory. But now that your usefulness has run its course, it's bedtime, children. Trust me, I'll ensure Cecelia keeps all of you updated on Clarice's status."

"We're not your pawns to use however you see fit, Emma," Monet snapped.

"Like why does Monet get ta call ol' Frosty, Emma?" Jubilee quietly commented.

Angelo replied, "Shhh. This is gettin' good, chica."

Emma crossed her arms. "Don't be overdramatic, darling. I never said that I saw you as such."

"Your actions do not belay anything different."

"Well, this is unexpected coming from the student that puts herself so high above others, continually belittling those around you to make yourself feel better. And this is the same student that manipulates situations to her own advantage, while keeping her trust reserved for only a select few. Your outburst is childish at best, Monet. I suggest you readdress this when you've put a little more thought into your argument and can address your feelings like the adult you want to be."

Monet looked as thought she had been physically slapped. Then her surprise morphed into unbridled anger and hatred, and she balled her fists at her sides. "How dare you! I won't be talked to that way by anyone. Especially you."

"Maybe it's time someone did. Now, does anyone else have any gripes that they want to publicly express?"

Jubilee frowned and replied, "Well, actually, like that whole Imma-be-a-jerk thing you've been doin' lately is so—mhmm mmm hhmmm—" her sentence was cut short by an extended tendril of skin wrapping around her lower face, courtesy of Angelo.

"I don't think now's the best time, Jubes," he said.

"Thank goodness for your teammate's sensibility. Now, if no one else has outlandish outbursts, I expect all of you to get to your rooms immediately. There has been enough excitement for the night. As for you, Monet. You can stop by my office tomorrow after school." Without even a _goodnight_, Emma strode away from her students and disappeared around the corner.

Emma had barely turned the corner, when Everett turned to Monet. "This probably isn't the best time, but are you okay? You've never been like that before."

"Nothing. Nothing at all," Monet glared after Emma.

"Look, I know there's always been this tension between you and Emma, but you can't just—"

"I'm well aware of my boundaries and tensions with Emma, Everett. Your concern is commendable but misplaced. I'll deal with it on my own."

Finally free from Angelo's silencing maneuver, Jubilee said, "Well, like, I'm more concerned about Clarice. I can't believe she's like _alive_. I mean, after all this time. Where was she? What happened? And like, what has she been through that changed her so much? I wonder if ol' Frosty's gonna let her stay at tha school?"

"Or if Clarice even wants to stay," Everett added.

Monet, still noticeably angry, responded, "Considering the circumstance of our abduction and the lack of any mention of parents, I do not believe Clarice has any other place of residence to call home. In addition, Cerebra has no home information or location registered for her."

"Pssshhhhtt. Like how do you know?" Jubilee pointedly asked.

"I researched the database earlier this evening."

Everett smiled. "So you were concerned about Clarice?"

"I only wanted increase my familiarity with the girl's circumstance."

"Well, I guess that makes sense, considering you really hadn't met her before."

"I will not elaborate on the situation involving my sisters' merger into my likeness, but I will say once again that there is precious little I don't know. I'm well-aware of much more than any of you probably will ever realize." Though there was boundless truth in what Monet said, she would never admit that there were things that were beyond her scope of knowledge. Just as the return of Clarice genuinely surprised her, so would the looming reappearance of her brother.

"Oh no! Like here we go again with tha Miz Perfect act," Jubilee rolled her eyes.

Everett let out an exaggerated yawn, hoping to derail the brewing argument. "Maybe we should all head to bed, like Emma said."

"I'm with you, amigo," Angelo agreed.

Despite all of the activity of the night, soon thereafter, all of the students and faculty at the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters were sleep. Many things had happened up to this point that had changed the foundation of the school, but little did any of them know that the worst was still to come.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional


	27. School Begins, Part 1

I.

The soft chimes of his cell phone dragged Michael Lawson out of his slumber into a harsh world of lights and sound. Naturally, his first thought was to simply turn off his alarm and return to the comforting throes of sleep. But he thought better of it, threw back his covers, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. After turning off his alarm, Michael yawned nosily and stretched, shuttering at the twinges of pain from his bruises.

It was just last night that Michael had not only managed to pummel himself with a laser-like weapon in the Danger Room, but also ended up in a confrontation with Emma Frost. At the end of the meeting, Michael was sure that Emma discovered something that bothered her.

Thinking about it, the only thing that she could have found out about was the mysterious person or thing that kept appearing at the oddest of times. But what was so alarming about that? Unless Emma knew something more about the voice and its origin. But if so, then maybe she was the one keeping secrets, in the same way she had accused Michael and Monet of doing.

_Well, maybe another confrontation is in order,_ Michael surmised.

He took a few more moments to bring himself to a more alert state before crossing the room and checking his e-mail. Surprisingly, he had two messages in his inbox—the first from Professor Charles Xavier and the second one from Heather Cameron.

Michael was a creature of habit, so naturally, he checked the one that came in first with the subject line: Welcome to Xavier's.

_Mr. Michael Lawson,_

_Welcome to the academic year at the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters! Though a unique curriculum, your courses will prove to be challenging and rewarding, while preparing you for the rigors of the finer institutions of higher learning around the world. You will have instructors of the highest caliber and classes that will challenge you mentally and physically. I hope that you are looking forward to your academic year. I can assure you that the faculty is looking forward to teaching you._

_Enjoy your tenure here at the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters!_

_Professor Charles Xavier_

_Founder, Xavier Academic Institutions_

"An e-mail from the Professor. Wow!" Michael said aloud. He wondered if they were going to have the chance to meet the Professor, since he was one of the few people that Jubilee spoke rather highly of. He tried to envision what the Professor looked like, and more importantly, if he had some physical mutation that altered his appearance, like Dr. McCoy. But all he could come up with is some wrinkly, stern-looking old man, which caused him to chuckle.

Clicking on the next e-mail, Michael skimmed through it quickly.

_Michael,_

_Welcome to Xavier's. Hopefully, you've been getting settled in and learning your way around the school and town. I'm going to be your counselor for the semester. I'm here to help you out as much as I can. Feel free to shoot me an e-mail about whatever. If I don't have the answer, I'll find it._

_Here's your schedule for the semester:_

_English III – Dr. Henry McCoy – 7:00 – 7:50_

_Calculus I – Mr. Robert Drake – 8:00 – 8:50_

_Engineering Basics – Forge – 9:00 – 9:50_

_Physics I – Mr. Neal Shaara – 10:00 – 10:50_

_Lunch – 11:00 – 12:00_

_Leadership – Ms. Ororo Munroe – 12:00 – 12:50_

_Specialized Ability Training I – Ms. Jean Grey – 1:00 – 1:50_

_Specialized Ability Training II – Mr. Warren Worthington – 2:00 – 2:50_

_Danger Room Training – Mr. Tom Corsi – 3:00 – 3:50_

_If you have any questions about your schedule, just send me an e-mail. Enjoy your classes!_

_Heather Cameron_

_Academic Advisor_

_Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters_

Michael leaned back in his chair and smiled. This was much more than he expected, and the classes seemed much more challenging than his schedule would have been at Snow Valley High. Before he could think about it any more, a familiar chime interrupted his thoughts.

Reaching for his phone, Michael found that Vanessa had sent him a text.

_We're eating breakfast. You coming?_

Michael reflected on what he had decided was a crush on Vanessa and smiled again. Though he wanted to tell her how he felt, the fear of rejection kept him at bay. For now, he was content to be friends, as they had been for so long. Still thinking about it, Michael quickly showered, dressed, and grabbed his black messenger bag with a contrasting, red X logo on the outside flap.

He threw open his door, but instead of stepping out into the hallway, Michael found himself in the middle of a dark void. Disoriented and surprised, Michael steadied himself with his telekinesis and prepared himself for whatever had decided to steal him away from the school.

_"I need you,"_ a voice called out.

A gasp escaped Michael as he instantly recognized the voice. _"It's you. From before."_ It was the same person or thing that had spoken to him right after his battle with Mason Arminthorpe. _"What do you need me for?"_

_ "You need to accept me."_

_ "Who the hell are you? Why won't you show yourself?"_

_ "I am near the end of my existence, but my flame must live on. And I have chosen you."_

_ "Chosen...me...? I don't understand."_

_ "But you do. My power is yours."_

_ "You're talking in riddles."_

_ "Your mind is strong, but you still refuse to realize your full potential."_

_ "Yeah, I've heard that a lot lately."_

_ "In time, you will have to accept what has rightfully been bestowed upon you."_

_ "Does this have to do with my powers?"_

_ "I have simply pointed you down the path. It is up to you to walk it."_

_ "Wait. I—I don't understand. Why...why me?"_

"Because you're the only one that hasn't told us what's on your schedule, silly!" Vanessa's voice and following snicker shattered the pitch black space Michael was in. Confused, Michael glanced around, realizing that there were no remnants of the strange place he was just in. It had all completely vanished, and now, Michael sat at the breakfast table with the rest of the students of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. He looked down at his plate—eggs, toast, potatoes, bacon—all food that he liked. While his mind was elsewhere, somehow, he had continued to navigate to the table and get breakfast, but he consciously didn't remember doing any of it.

"Umm...Mike?" Vanessa said, leaning toward him. "Are you okay? You look a little thrown off."

Still trying to piece everything together, Michael first glanced back at Vanessa with a blank expression. At first, there was a brief nanosecond that he really didn't know what was going on, where he was, or who this girl was that was talking to him. But in the next moment, his mind cleared, and he suddenly recovered his senses.

Michael didn't feel like explaining anything about the voice or his disorientation. Instead, he answered, "Yeah...sorry—I was...distracted. Ummm...I'm okay. Really," he replied, only noting afterward that his explanation was rushed and seemed forced rather than sincere.

Vanessa frowned. "Mike, if there's something wrong—"

"No," he interjected much too quickly. Noticing Vanessa's concerned expression, he tried to assuage her feelings. "I'm just a little anxious about school, that's all. My schedule...it's pretty full actually. I've got two Specialized Ability Courses and a full load in the morning. Not to mention our Danger Room session at the end of the day."

"Well, it looks like we have English together," Vanessa gleefully observed. She stood and gently locked her arm around Michael's. "So, I'll walk with you to the classroom. The way you look today, I figured you'd get lost without an escort."

Michael felt a little embarrassed. "Thanks," he quietly replied as he stood. Though he felt like everyone was staring at him, as he glanced around, Michael saw that no one was really even paying his awkward moment attention. All of the other students were still engaged in either energetic chatter or focused on eating and getting to class on time.

Michael let Vanessa lead him away from the dining area, through the living room, and into the newly sanctioned classroom area. Once they were a good distance away from the others, Vanessa asked, "Mike, are you sure everything's okay?"

"Why do you ask?" returned Michael, passively avoiding the question.

"Since we've been here at Xavier's, you seem..._different_."

"I don't know what you mean," he said quietly. "Are you talking about the situation at the Corporation?"

"Not just that" Vanessa said. She paused for a moment, thinking hard about the situation. "I don't know. Maybe it's just been awhile. I mean, it's been about a year since we last saw each other."

Michael sighed, keeping his eyes forward. "I guess it's just different here," he attempted to explain. "I mean, this is quite a change of pace from Snow Valley High, to say the least. And there's Dr. Cain. Here we are, safe, getting ready to go to class, while he's still missing. Who knows what's happening to him. I just...I wish I could have done more."

Vanessa shook her head. "There wasn't anything you could do. Dr. Cain wouldn't have let you help. I don't think he wanted us involved at all."

"Well, his plan didn't work too well, did it? We're in way over our heads, and now we've even gotten mixed up with the X-Men." Michael let out a burden-laden sigh. "I never imagined anything like this would happen."

"It's all for a reason, Mike. And we'll figure out what happened to Dr. Cain. Don't worry," Vanessa punctuated her sentence with a gentle pat on Michael shoulder.

Though her touch sent tingles through his body, Michael didn't really feel any better. "Yeah. We'll find him," he replied with a lackluster level of confidence, which was much more than he felt inside.

II.

It had been quite a few years since Danielle Moonstar had set foot back in what used to be known as the Massachusetts Academy. Back then, it was home to another group of young mutants, dubbed the Hellions, trained by Emma Frost. As a member of the New Mutants at the main campus, Dani and her teammates had numerous run-ins with the Hellions and Emma Frost herself.

So, when Charles initially asked Dani to teach at the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, she hesitated, and rightfully so. Not only was she setting foot back into the house of their previous enemies, but now she had to deal with Emma Frost. And the wounds she inflicted as the leader of their nemesis team hadn't quite healed. But Charles was like a second father to her, and it was hard to simply say no, given his pitch.

"This is the chance to mold and shape a new generation, much like we were able to do with you. They're young, impressionable, and at an age where they don't quite understand how they quite fit into the world. You were always one of my most responsible students, and I can't think of anyone else that I would have join the rest of the facility there."

She sometimes wondered if Charles had a prewritten set of convincing speeches that he pulled out just to get what he wanted, because there was absolutely no way she could refuse after that. Agreeing, Dani promised that she would do the best that she could.

But now, as the first bell sounded, she wasn't sure what her best actually was. Adding to her trepidation was the fact that Emma had assigned her to teach the younger students—the St. Croix twins, Franklin Richards, Artie Maddicks, and the Morlock known as Leech. Dani only knew Artie and Leech through passing, but had no previous dealings with Franklin, Claudette, or Nicole. And she didn't have the chance to go through their file, which she vowed to do tonight.

"Leech no like school," the green-hued youngster stated firmly as he stormed through the door. He was followed close behind by Artie, who had created a three-dimensional, translucent image of a smiley face sticking out its tongue.

Pushing his long, blond bangs from his face, Franklin tried to reason with him. "You've never been to school, so how do you know whether you like it or not?"

"He's got a point," Nicole chimed in. She entered the classroom holding her twin sister's hand. "Learning can be fun, right, Ms. Moonstar?"

It took Dani a moment to realize that she had been addressed, thinking that someone was talking to her mother. Dani had never been referred to as _Ms. Moonstar_, and she quickly realized that she didn't like it. It made her sound much older than she really was.

Smiling, Dani replied, "You're absolutely right." She watched as Leech slid into a seat, crossed his arms, and settled in a frown that seemed more cute than sad, Dani mused. "So, why don't you like school, Leech?"

"Leech saw school on T.V. Teacher was mean to kids. An' teacher gave them re-ten-shun. Kids no like teacher an' no like school. Kids skip school and teacher hunt them down. So, Leech no like school too."

Dani held back an amused laugh, wondering if Leech had somehow tuned into Ferris Bueller's Day off.

Franklin adamantly shook his head in disagreement. "I told him that school was fun, not like whatever he saw on television. Uncle Johnny doesn't like school either, but Mom says that he's just always in trouble. I'm not bad like Uncle Johnny, so I like school."

"Well, your mother's right, Franklin," Dani said as she sat on the front of her desk. "This school isn't going to be like whatever you saw on T.V. I plan on making it fun for you guys, and you don't have to worry about _detention_," Dani emphasized the last word as a way to passively correct Leech's mis-hearing and repeating of the word. "Here's the thing though, I'm going to need your help to make it fun. Actually, I'm going to need all of you to help make it fun. But first, I have to see a smile on everyone's face."

The other students flashed pleasant smiles, eager to see what Dani had in store, but Leech tried to hang onto his feeling of dislike.

"Leech no smile."

"Come on. I know there's a smile hiding in there," she coaxed. And Dani knew it was working when the corner of his mouth turned up just a little.

"You can do it, Leech!" Nicole cheered, thrusting her and Claudette's hand in the air for encouragement.

"Yeah! Smile!" Franklin chimed in.

Even Artie created a smiley face with a huge, toothy grin.

As Leech looked around, his smile grew, and when he finally rested on Dani's friendly smile, he returned it with a heartwarming smile of his own.

_This is exactly where I belong_, Dani thought to herself, glad that she couldn't refuse Xavier's offer. For the first time since leaving X-Force, Dani felt like she had direction and purpose. And right now, she couldn't ask for anything more than that.

III.

"Alright, kids. Today's gonna be the start of your advanced math course," Bobby Drake announced as he turned from the Smartboard, his name, Mr. Drake, written in large black letters. He surveyed the class, and noting the unfamiliar faces, was instantly reminded of how often the X-Men roster expanded, dwindled, and changed.

He then thought back to his own days as a new student at Xavier's. Back then, it was just Hank, Scott, Warren, Jean, and him. But now, the mansion was teeming with students both old and new. And now, instead of being a student, Bobby was the teacher. Imagine that!

"I've heard Emma—Ms. Frost—is being a little more strict with you guys. My dad is called Mr. Drake, so you can just call me Iceman in the classroom."

Gaia raised her hand but asked a question at the same time. "Pray tell, why would we refer to you in such a manner?"

Bobby opened his mouth to answer, but Rico's surprising interjection cut him off. "He's Iceman. Like one of the original X-Men. You know, Cyclops, Marvel Girl, Angel, Beast, and _Iceman_. He's like a legend!" Rico couldn't hide his boyish awe as he spoke, a huge grin spreading across his face with each passing moment.

Jubilee rolled her eyes. "Pssh. Puh-leeze. Like calm down. He's _not_ that cool."

Bobby shook his head, as if he felt sorry for her. "Now, now, Jubilee. I am that cool. Literally. Don't hate me because I've got fans."

"Like just because you were an X-Man from birth, doesn't mean you're automatically some kinda like poster kid fer the X-Men. I totally think ol' Scottie's totally got ya beat there. 'Sides, I was like rollin' with all of ya to the ends of tha universe like tha same as you. An' to top it all off, like yer only a few years older than me, buster."

Bobby's face took on a disapproving expression as he scrambled for a response. "Well, I was there for the formation of the X-Men, and X-Factor, and the formation of the two Strike Force teams."

"So what?" Jubilee blew a bubble and popped it in one motion as she eyed him, unimpressed.

"That means a lot!"

"Whatever!"

Monet cleared her throat, successfully interrupting the argument. "The whole purpose of my presence in this inferior math course is to simply appease Emma. However, if the class syllabus simply entails useless banter between the both of you, I shall take my leave and preoccupy my time with an activity a thousand times more mentally stimulating, _Bobby_."

Bobby crossed his arms, trying to hide his growing annoyance. "It's _Ms. Frost_ and _Mr. Drake_, Monet." He didn't realize until much later his error.

"I thought you said to call you Iceman," Gaia mentioned, not for the purpose of arguing, but genuine confusion.

Bobby sighed loudly, "That's beside the point."

Monet continued, "If you're going to act like a teacher, then be a teacher. I know it must be hard, considering your maturity level is probably significantly less than Jubilee's but—"

"That's enough," Bobby leaned forward on his desk, eyes locked with Monet's.

"Excuse me," Paige cut in. "Mr. Drake," she noted how funny it sounded when she was used to calling him Bobby, "I read through the first section of the chapter, and I wasn't sure about the symmetry with respect to the origin topic. Can you explain that?"

For a moment, Bobby returned Paige's glance with a blank stare, as if he had forgotten that he was even teaching class. Bobby smiled, his eyes regaining the focus of a determined, young teacher, and he grabbed a black dry-erase marker. As he wrote a rather lengthy equation on the board, the students breathed a sigh of relief.

"Way to get him back on track," Ethan whispered to Paige, causing her to blush slightly. From across the room, Jono noticed Paige's reaction, and his grip tightened around his pen. He shot his eyes toward the front of the room, but the scene kept replaying over and over in his mind. Jono cursed silently to himself and failed miserably at focusing on the problem on the board.

Unaware of Jono's torture, Paige responded to Ethan, "Well, I really did have a question about it, even though I understood most of it last night."

Rico leaned in, adding, "At least you kept the teacher's pet, Monet, from getting kicked out of class."

"If it would allow me to do something worthwhile with my keen intellect, I shall gladly pardon myself from this course," Monet responded.

"So, to answer Paige's question, we have to look at an equation like this and solve for y." Bobby took a few moments to rewrite the equation in question on the board, then turned back to the students. "Now, who would like to come up and try it?"

Some hands went up that Bobby already expected: Rico, Paige, Gaia, and Everett. But a hand, more like a claw, in the back of the room raised only slightly above the individuals' own head caught Bobby's eye. Bobby couldn't quite recall her name, but he remembered Emma saying something about her possibly being deaf and mute, unable to communicate with the world around her. She also described the girl as timid and reclusive. So either Emma had the girl totally pegged wrong, or maybe she was finally coming out of her shell. Figuratively of course, since her outer skin was diamond hard, something like a shell.

Bobby pointed toward the back. "Ummm…Yvette, right? Come on up and show us on the board."

Yvette was as surprised as the other students in the classroom. She wasn't exactly sure herself why she had raised her hand. But now, as she looked at the problem on the board, it seemed familiar and simple enough to solve. Slipping out of her chair, Yvette half-walked, half-crawled down the aisle to the front of the classroom.

Again, she studied the equation carefully. Yvette chanced a glance and found that everyone, even the new students, looked happy, as if they wanted her to go on. She couldn't remember the last time that she had someone on her side, encouraging her. Not wanting to disappoint, Yvette picked up a dry-erase marker carefully, ensuring that she didn't put too much pressure on it for fear of her diamond-hard skin destroying it. Writing deliberately and carefully, Yvette wrote a reasonably legible answer on the board and was barely done with the last stroke before she dropped the writing apparatus and skittishly bolted back to her seat.

"Very good," Bobby said. He looked over the problem and Yvette's answer, nodding with approval. "Actually, you're exactly right, Yvette. Great job!"

From her desk, Yvette poked her head up and smiled. And around her, her classmates showered her with words of approval and congratulations. Pleased, Yvette's smile grew, and unnoticed by all and her, her skin softened just a little.

IV.

"Wow. It's kind of cool that Yvette solved that problem," Vanessa gushed as she and Michael strolled down the hallway. She remembered Michael's next class was Engineering Basics, which was one of the ones they didn't have together, regretfully.

Though Michael seemed distant and pensive as of late, she still enjoyed his company. And even though he tried to pretend to be attentive during class, all it took was a quick note to get him distracted enough to engage in some pointless banter through note-passing. Though her class was Physics, in the completely opposite direction, she hoped to walk with him a little ways and get him talking again.

"Yeah," he responded. "I'm glad she's getting more comfortable around us. But I wonder what happened to her?"

"I heard that she was kidnapped by some really bad guy. I didn't catch all of the details, but I think she may have been tortured. No one here knows anything about her. Except Monet."

"Monet? What does she have to do with Yvette?"

"I don't know. Speaking of, Monet's been acting really weird lately. Have you talked to her?"

"No, I haven't. Now that you mention it, she's been kind of reclusive for the past week or so. Not to mention temperamental. I thought that Mr. Drake was going to kick her out of class. I think we're in the same Specialized Ability Class with Mr. Worthington and Ms. Grey. Maybe she'll snap out of her mood by then."

Vanessa laughed. "You may have to keep her from getting kicked out of those classes too."

"Yeah. I don't doubt it. But you're right. Maybe I should try to talk to her. But I'll wait until a little later in the week when she's a bit more settled. What class do you have next?"

"Umm...physics. Mr. Shaara. Should be fun. I'll see you at lunch." With that, Vanessa trotted off in the opposite direction as Michael watched her go. He sighed, realizing that he definitely had a crush on her, but with everything else going on, there was no way he would be able to fully engage in a relationship. And he was hesitant about even admitting his feelings.

If there was one thing that Michael avoided, it was rejection. There was something about not feeling wanted that left a hollow space deep in his heart. He had already gone through it with his family, which hurt every time he thought about it. And he wasn't sure that he could take being spurned by someone else that he cared for.

Michael turned and headed toward his next classroom, this one closer to the hallway entrance and the living room. The classroom was much brighter than the hallway, Michael noted as he slid into the third desk in a middle row, glad to see a few more students trickle in right behind him. He figured it would be a small class again, which suited him just fine.

The classes at Snow Valley high had at least twenty students, usually thirty. Many times, the teacher couldn't really spend the necessary time with the students because of dealing with some of the more trouble-causing ones. Many times, Michael had questions that went unanswered or comments that he felt would contribute unsaid.

He noticed a man, who he presumed was the teacher, Forge according to the schedule, casually glance over the students. Michael wasn't too familiar with the X-Men, so this guy's relevance to their parent team eluded him. He was sure that Rico would have known every little detail about the guy though. But despite being an X-Man, there didn't seem to be anything intimidating or really even noteworthy about the teacher. But upon a closer glance, Michael noticed a few odd things.

The six-foot, muscular Native American had a weird metallic sheen on his hand and the exposed upper part of his leg. Next were the tasseled, buckskin boots along with the gold and blue uniform. The uniform stuck Michael as out of place, considering the rest of his teachers were in regular business casual attire.

Then Michael remembered that they had met Forge some time ago, the same day that Ms. Pickwick from the school board visited. Apparently, he was the one that constructed the Danger Room. Judging from its complexity, there had to be more to Forge than what Michael could outwardly see.

Forge uncrossed his arms and glanced over the students before he began. "Good Morning. I'm Forge, and I'll be teaching your Engineering Basic course. Now, I'm not big into a whole lot of introductions and fluff, and I'm sure there will be plenty of time for us to get to know each other, so we're going to get right into the meat of chapter one."

Surprised, Michael fished his engineering book out of his black, leather messenger bag, followed by a notebook and a mechanical pencil. He hardly expected to get right to business within the first five minutes of class. He could tell already that this class would be a little more fast-paced. And probably a little harder than the rest.

For the next hour, Michael annotated nearly everything that Forge said, ensuring he made a few side notes to help him remember some of the key points. Flexing his hand, Michael was glad when it seemed that Forge was wrapping up his lecture.

Forge concluded, "—so, we have a system that provides DC. Looking at that resistor, we get voltage is equal to current times resistance and to get current, we can use the voltage from here," Forge pointed to another diagram, "multiplied by the sine of omega t divided by resistance."

Angelo raised his hand, extending his skin just a few extra feet for show. He waited patiently for Forge to acknowledge him before responding. "Yeah, ummm, Forge," he began, searching to the right words. "I don't really know how else to say this, but I don't understand a thing you just said."

Holding back a disheartened groan, Forge replied, "Well, you're going to have to give me more than that. Was it something about this problem that you didn't understand?"

Angelo turned his eyes toward the ceiling and rubbed his index finger across the bristly stubble on his chin. "What if I said everything? Like everything after you said to call you Forge. It was all a blur."

Forge couldn't help a heavy sigh as he rubbed his forehead. "You could've raised your hand earlier."

"Well, you were kinda in your groove. I didn't want to mess that up."

"Teachers don't have a groove. Or if we do, it's to make sure you all are learning."

Jubilee chimed in, "Well, like I kinda agree wit' Ange on this one. I'm just sayin' that I totally didn't get any of the junk you were throwin' at us for reals."

Forge felt a dull headache right behind his eyes. "Well, I can try to explain—"

The bell cut him off. Sighing, he said, "Look, everyone read over chapter one tonight, and we'll try to go over all of this again tomorrow."

Michael smiled as he quickly shoved his book, notebook, and pen back into his bag. And fell in behind Angelo, laughing about the whole situation, and for a moment, forgetting about the looming pressures lurking in his mind. But much sooner than he realized, he would be face to face with something that would take him years to understand and a choice that would change him forever.

Notes

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional


	28. School Begins, Part 2

I.

"I said I'm fine, Dr. McCoy," Clarice Ferguson crossed her arms and gave Hank a resolute glare. Her pupil-less eyes narrowed as she watched him flip through her medical printouts, his expression unreadable. However, it seemed with each passing second, the frown on his bestial visage grew deeper.

It was just last night that Clarice Ferguson literally fell into the hands of Generation X. Though Hank had attempted to explain the details of her surprise arrival multiple times, Clarice still wasn't sure that she understood what happened. And for all of his large words and lengthy explanations, she gathered that Hank wasn't really all that sure either.

Clarice recalled Hank stating that there was some kind of _temporal teleportation feedback_ from the _artificial replication_ of her powers, which caused some kind of weird _resonance_ that coincided and activated her own powers. Just remembering the exact terms he used and the gist of Hank's hypothesis gave her a slight headache.

But trying to recall anything else, like where she was beforehand, was next to impossible. Every time Clarice attempted to dig through her memories, it was like she hit an impassable wall of fog. She couldn't understand why she remembered Harvest and the rest of Generation X, but nothing after that. It was as if an entire section of her life just simply didn't exist. And that's what bothered her the most.

Between then and now, she obviously honed her teleportation skills and had picked up hand-to-hand combat along the way. She had kept in shape, judging from her athletic figure and flexibility. But those were the only clues Clarice had.

For the second time within the past twenty-four hours, she surveyed the room, then once again examined the clothes she was wearing. During Paige's several visits, she determined that Clarice was the same size as her, so Paige brought down a pair of jeans, an old pair of tennis shoes, and a flannel shirt. Though they weren't exactly Clarice's style, she accepted them, as the only other thing she had was her green battle outfit. Paige then promised that she would make Monet take them shopping so Clarice could build some kind of wardrobe.

Hank rubbed his chin and hummed deeply, indicative of heavy contemplation. "Young lady, it is near impossible for me to debate the point with you. Your vitals are reading quite normally, though your iron is a bit low. I want to run a few more tests just to—"

"You've ran plenty of tests," Clarice interjected after an annoyed sigh. "I'm fine. For the hundredth time. Besides, I could have left anytime I wanted to. I was only being nice." She tucked loose strands of her dark lavender hair behind her pointed ears.

"Ah, a fine point. But alas, where would you go?"

Clarice bit her lip, annoyed at Hank's frank response. She opened her mouth to respond, but she decided against it. He was right. For all practical purposes, she was a stranger in an even stranger, unfamiliar world. Though this was the world she grew up in, Clarice didn't know anything about it, and at this point, really didn't care. All she wanted was out of the med bay. Now.

Hank placed the medical chart on the desk behind him and removed his gold framed, oval glasses. "Ms. Ferguson, I understand your fervor and consternation, but as a doctor, I have to express my concern for your well-being. It would be a disservice to the medical profession if I hastened my examination only for some ailment to have been inadvertently overlooked. And though I may be nothing but a stranger to you now, my concern for you swells as a father would for a child."

Clarice rolled her eyes. "Okay, okay. I get it. Fine. Just finish already."

Hank scribbled something, then placed the clipboard on the counter. "Do you remember anything?"

"No," she wearily answered. "I can't. I've tried, but I don't know what happened after I—well, I just don't remember. And I really don't remember anything before I was kidnapped by Harvest. It's like I hit a brick wall every time I try to think about any of it."

Hank rubbed his chin slowly, his eyes wandering toward the sky in thought. "Fascinating."

"I'm not a science fair project. What's so fascinating?"

"Your memory loss. You're able to recall the events following your abduction, but anything before and after are inaccessible. This may be something Emma can help you with."

"Emma? From last night? Umm...if you don't mind, I'll pass. There's something about her that I just don't really like."

Hank let out a deep chuckle. "Alas, Emma projects a cold demeanor—her last name is Frost you know—but trust me, it's her deepest desire to rear all of you into productive, respectable adults. But you have to let her. In the meantime, we can help you locate your parents."

"Why?" she sharply asked. "Have they been trying to find me? If they had, you would know where they were, and we wouldn't have to find them." She shifted her weight noticeably, not hiding her agitation. Abruptly changing the subject, she asked, "So, this place...it's a school?"

Hank noticed, but instead of pressing the issue further, he replied, "A school for the gifted, a place for young minds to expand and flourish such as a cultivated chrysanthemum at the peak of its maturation. Ah, yes...the days of old. I remember when..."

"Hey, Dr. McCoy. You wanted to know if I was okay. Remember?"

Hank laughed deeply. "Forgive me. Sometimes, I get wrapped up in fond memories. I will present you a clean bill of health if you promise to return the slightest inkling of pain or illness you feel. Understood?" Hank scribbled on the medical charts as he spoke, his eyes darting back and forth from his notes to Clarice.

"Got it," she replied, then threw up a mock salute.

"I can take you on a tour," Hank said, but stopped as pink energy highlighted her eyes.

She replied, "I think I'll find my own way, Dr. McCoy." A blink sound punctuated her sentence, and in the following moment after the sound of a blink, she disappeared from the room.

II.

After a quick lunch with Vanessa, Angelo, and Everett, Michael rushed to his first class after lunch, which was the start of their specialized training courses. Michael gathered that the bulk of the afternoon was dedicated to the development of their powers and self-defense. And as such, it seemed that afternoons would be just as demanding as the morning academic classes.

But when he glanced at his schedule, his heart sunk a little. _Not another class with Monet_, Michael internally complained. He had already witnessed quite the display of attitude in two classes previously. He really didn't feel like intervening again on Monet's behalf to keep her from getting kicked out of class. But what the heck was wrong with her?

Of all the students, Monet seemed to be one of the most levelheaded, despite all of her snooty comments and lofty disposition. But now, Monet acted as if she wanted the other students and teachers to be upset with her. If that's what she was going for, she was doing a great job of it in Michael's eyes. Still, it concerned him—there had to be more to it than Monet just being herself. Michael made a mental note to keep a closer eye on her as the week progressed.

He entered the bright classroom, joining Gaia, Jono, and Monet. Sunlight streamed through the windows and instantly eased his mind as he slipped into a desk on the other side of Gaia. Just as he pulled out his notebook, the teacher entered the room, her mere presence demanding attention and respect.

Her long, red hair fell down her back, light curls accenting her locks. Brilliant green eyes, inviting and friendly, yet with a slight edge of determination and even danger, searched the room meticulously without being intrusive. A dazzling smile, complimented by full lips, greeted the students, even before she said a word. Her deep violet blouse, black slacks, and matching heels complimented her svelte figure, which curved in all the right places.

Surprised at her beauty, Michael couldn't believe that she was a teacher, let alone an X-Man. He wasn't infatuated, but there was something about her that aroused his curiosity.

"Good afternoon. I'm Jean Grey-Summers, and welcome to Psionic Fundamentals. All of you were enrolled in this class because you have some form of heightened mind ability, such as telekinesis, telepathy, empathy, precognitive abilities, a combination of those, or something more. I'm here to teach you how to first and foremost effectively control your abilities, hone the skills you possess, and possibly teach you more about yourself than you ever thought possible."

As Jean spoke, she made eye contact with the four students, recognizing only Monet St. Croix. Charles briefly informed her that several new students had joined the school, all mutants. All young. And all in danger.

Jean asked, "Monet, it's good to see you. How has the development of your telepathic powers been going?"

Monet sat with her hands clasped, resting on the top of the desk, her posture erect and proper. "Quite well, Ms. Summers. Thank you."

Michael's jaw almost hit the floor. No snooty reply? No attitude? No nothing? On one hand, he was glad that Monet seemed to be back to normal. On the other hand, it was a stark difference from just this morning. And at this point, he knew Monet well enough to know that she wouldn't change her attitude that easily.

Considering his progression with his powers, Michael figured that he could just do a light sweep of Monet's thoughts. Hopefully, he would be able to garner at least some fragment of why she was acting so strangely. Pretending to pay attention to Jean, Michael surreptitiously concentrated on pinpointing Monet's thought pattern, which proved to be much more difficult than it should have been.

Jono's thoughts radiated from him like rays from the sun, his feelings and inner statements distinctly readable. Michael clearly felt that Jono was not only torn about Paige, but also angry with Ethan. Slightly embarrassed, Michael made a conscious effort to block out any further details. Despite how easy it was for him to read minds, he usually didn't, feeling as though he was traipsing through private inner thoughts that he had no business even knowing about.

Michael blocked out Gaia's thoughts, which were primarily centered around the class and what else Jean had in store for them. Though less personal, he still didn't want to invade or pry.

Then there was Monet. When he searched for her thoughts, it was like she wasn't even on the same planet with him. Michael attempted a stronger probe, despite increasing the chance that she would catch him. But Michael felt a slight backlash of dull pain, like he had bumped his head against a wall.

Telepathically speaking to Monet, Michael said, _"Monet, you're acting weird. And I can't read you. What's going on?"_

Monet, never taking her eyes of Jean telepathically responded, _"Nothing for you to be even remotely concerned about, considering you shouldn't have been trying to read my mind in the first place. Besides, communicating like this is foolish, especially with our teacher here. She can hear every word."_

_ "She's right you know,"_ Jean telepathically interjected.

His face hot with embarrassment, Michael only gave Jean a half-a-second glance before casting his eyes downward. She only gave him a knowing smile in return, crossing her arms as she leaned on the front of the desk as if waiting for him to attempt an explanation or an apology. He felt the puzzled glance from Jono and Gaia, only adding to his discomfort.

Michael began, "Ms. Summers, I'm sorry. I—"

"Don't worry," Jean said to minimize the situation and refocus the students. "This is the perfect place to test out all of your telepathic abilities and see what you can and can't get away with. This is a great lead-in for our topic of the day. Your psi-conversation was actually at a pretty advanced level, so most psychics wouldn't be able to hear you. Think of it like a spectrum of frequencies. Most psychics and even non-psychics operate within a certain range, which is why it's usually pretty easy to read minds and hear psi-conversations. But more advanced, powerful psychics operate in a much wider range, which makes it much harder to mind-read an advanced psychic."

_Yeah, now she tells me_, Michael groaned to himself. But he already knew that Monet was quite powerful, which he observed during their situation involving Nightmare and Angora. And obviously, with Jean being the teacher, she had to be a formidable psi herself. Michael wondered just how much power she had. Again, an X-Man briefing from Rico was definitely needed tonight.

"Reading minds and reaching out to other minds can be dangerous," Jean warned, "especially if the other person has some sort of psychic or enhanced mental abilities. Think of it like this: when you read someone's mind, it's like opening the door to their house. But you have to keep in mind that your own door is open as well. As much as you can see about them, they can in turn see about you."

Jean's words hung in the air, surrounded by a grave silence from the students.

Gaia tapped her pencil on her chin, then asked, "Is there anyway that we can read a mind and block someone out at the same time?"

Jean smiled before responding. "Your mind's in the right place, Gaia. Defensive psi-shields can help. Think of them as mental barriers but in place to keep other psychics out. But building and maintaining a psi-shield takes a bit of effort and time. During this class, I'll teach you how to erect a spontaneous psi-shield as well as a reinforced barrier."

Jono frowned. _"But what about me? I don't 'ave any mindreadin' abilities or anythin' like that."_

"You don't have to be a psychic to have psi-shields. I've taught some of my teammates how to do this, despite them not having any propensity for psychic abilities. Even without, you can still reasonably protect yourself from unwanted psychic intrusions and attacks. Now, we've been talking about defensive and passive abilities, but we'll also focus on offensive abilities."

"Umm, like the psi-bolt?" Michael offered.

"Yes, the famous psi-bolt," Jean chuckled slightly, as if amused by his suggestion. "That's probably the one of the most overused telepathic attacks in fiction nowadays. But contrary to popular belief, there are only a few telepaths actually have enough power to accomplish this feat."

Michael shifted uneasily in his seat. He was sure that in his confrontation with Emma last night, he had used a psi-bolt against her. And he had used one once before against Mina Laroché, but at a much lower power level. But he didn't know how and probably couldn't consciously use the more powerful one again. It was hard to believe that his power level somehow placed him in some elite, telepath minority group that had some kind of hidden power deep within their mind. It sounded laughable to say the least.

_"So, what is a psi-bolt?"_ Jono asked.

Jean answered, "The psi-bolt is a telepathic force blast that remains one of the most ferocious and debilitating attacks. Now, relating back to what you said earlier, there are certain limitations to what you can and cannot do, based on the development of your powers. So, don't get hung up on the fact that you can't fire off a psi-bolt or that you can't read minds. All of you have quite impressive abilities in your own right, and I want to help you build and hone those first. Ultimately, that's what these courses are for—to help all of you learn more about your powers and about yourselves."

Again, Michael found it amazing that this was a school specifically for mutants. Like him. Like his teammates. Like his friends.

Jean continued. "Keep in mind that having any type of enhanced mind ability can be both a blessing and a curse. Your strength can also be your weakness, and your power depends heavily on your own state of mind. You must be in control of your power...don't let it control you."

As if on cue, the bell rang, and Michael swore that the class had been cut short, but when he looked at the clock, about fifty minutes had already passed. He closed his notebook and watched as Monet, Jono, and Gaia filed out of the room. Gaia merrily chattered on about some of the things Jean said, while Jono at least tried to engage her. But Monet looked as disinterested as she could possibly be and said nothing in return.

Michael again felt that Monet had some sturdy psi-shields up, safeguarding any thoughts she had. But he couldn't understand why, unless she was hiding something...

Frowning at the idea, Michael reflected back on his conversation with Emma. Maybe Monet was hiding something dangerous, and Emma had every right to be suspicious. But Michael had nothing to do with whatever was going on in Monet's mind. But he decided that if anyone was going to figure it out, it would be him. Along with the person behind the mysterious voice. And the disappearance of Dr. Cain. And the real plan Arminthorpe had for them.

Michael sighed, suddenly feeling burdened by everything. His mood slightly dampened, he grabbed his messenger bag and headed toward the door.

"Michael," Jean called as she stacked some papers. "Do you have a moment?"

Stunned, he stumbled over his words a little. "Y-yes. I mean, sure, Ms. Summers. Is there something wrong?" It crossed his mind to try to read her thoughts, but after what happened earlier, he thought better of it.

Pushing red stands of hair behind her ear, she sat down in the leather chair behind the desk, the first time she had done so. "First, just call me Jean, okay?"

"Umm...okay," he hesitated, unsure why every teacher seemed to be fine with first names except Emma. "Jean," he tested, and when she smiled, Michael felt a little more comfortable.

"Much better. Now, I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but something tells me it's better that you know. Emma is concerned and wanted me to keep an eye on you. Can you tell me why?"

Michael sat down facing Jean. He didn't know where to start or even what to say. He didn't know Jean any better than he knew Emma, but he felt more comfortable and less intimidated around her. He relaxed a little, but still kept his guard up, just like Jean had mentioned in the class.

He answered, "It's probably because I had a run-in with her last night. I didn't mean to, but I lashed out at her with a psi-bolt when she tried to read my mind."

"Judging from your record, I'm not surprised. Your power levels are quite impressive, considering your age. And don't feel bad about Emma—I'm sure she was fine. But why the run-in?"

"She thinks I'm keeping some big secret, but..." he trailed off.

"Are you?"

"No. Not really," he replied hesitantly. Michael didn't want to tell anyone about what was happening, but Jean seemed so trustworthy and safe. And he wanted—no, needed—someone to be open and honest with. He continued, "There's something out there. I keep hearing this voice. And there's this dark place that I keep finding myself, and the voice is there too."

Concerned, Jean leaned forward. "What is it saying? Is it someone you recognize?"

"No. But it keeps making reference to power. My power," he explained. As he looked at Jean, his brown eyes narrowed, as if a part of his brain was analyzing something important. "I can't figure out whether it's trying to help me or if I'm in some kind of danger. And then there's everything else—my power increase, Dr. Cain, Monet, this place, the voice, my family, the Corporation. Jean, I don't know what to do."

Jean sat back in the chair, her expression sympathetic. "You're putting a lot on your shoulders. If you keep doing that, you'll end up being your own worst enemy. Take some time to yourself tonight and just relax. Think about what's going on, and how you can approach each situation one step at a time. But, here's the catch—keep yourself floating about two feet from the ceiling, using an inverted lotus posture."

"What?"

"I know. It sounds weird. I thought so too, but it works. I don't want to make you late for your next class, but just try it tonight. This is a good exercise for both your telekinesis and telepathy. Visualize the things that are weighing heavily on your mind, then think about how to put them into their own box. Then imagine opening those boxes one at a time, discovering each smaller detail of what's inside of those boxes one by one. Trust me, it will help."

"Thanks. I appreciate it. I'll let you know how it goes," he smiled then left. Michael felt undoubtedly better, relieved that he finally gotten it partially off his chest. And maybe Jean's technique would help ease him mind a little more. Or at least enough to get to sleep.

Michael glanced at his watch, and realizing he was late, sprinted down the hallway, hoping that Mr. Worthington didn't give detention for being tardy. What he didn't see was Jean studying him after he left, her brows furrowed with deep concern. She already knew what was happening, and if she was right, Michael was in much more danger than he realized.

III.

_"I thought I'd never get out of there,"_ Clarice thought as she stepped from a portal into the spacious living room. With the sun peaking in through the elaborate drapes, the living room looked much more inviting and warm than the dark, shadowy dead end it became last night. She admired the elaborate furniture and decorations, surprised that such furnishings were being used at a school. In her mind, she imagined hard, uncomfortable effects, dreary dressings, and a lifeless ambiance for any place considered something like a boarding school. But this was much better than she could have hoped for.

Clarice rolled the sleeves of the flannel shirt, finally away from the rather chilly atmosphere of the med bay. She glanced around at the different paths she could take—there were carpeted stairs leading to another floor; directly in front of her was a lengthy hallway, lined with doors on either side; to her left was the heavy, oak double-doors leading outside; behind her was the dining area where she heard dishes clang together from somewhere beyond the immediate area.

Curious, Clarice made her way around the long dining room table into the kitchen. By the counter stood a tall, silver-haired gentleman. Dressed rather nicely in ash gray slacks, a matching vest, and a dark blue button-down shirt, he didn't look like he should have been washing dishes. He either should have been a visiting business owner or a filthy-rich, traveling entrepreneur with a trophy wife.

Instead, he dutifully rinsed the dishes, cookware, and silverware, inspecting each before loading them into the dishwasher. The man's posture and physique were strong and hearty, though he handled the wares with an unexpected delicacy and finesse. Clarice could easily tell there was more to the man than being a simple butler, but before she could ponder on it any more, he realized someone else was in the room and paused, making eye contact with Clarice.

He smiled warmly and said, "Ah. Seems that you just missed lunch. Would you like something?"

Clarice had a lot on her mind, and it wasn't until Robert mentioned food that she realized how hungry she actually was. Her stomach growled in agreement. "Umm...sure. Thanks. Just a sandwich. Ham. Cheese. Mustard. Pickles. On wheat. Please."

Robert pulled the bread from a shelf and then pulled the other items from the refrigerator before addressing Clarice again. "So, how are you feeling this morning? I heard of the rather eventful circumstances last night."

"Oh. That," she hesitated. "I'm okay. Dr. McCoy said I'm okay too, in his own very wordy way. I'm actually a little embarrassed that I panicked like that last night."

Robert waved off her concern with a shake of his head. "Nonsense. Your reaction is understandable—you were disoriented. I don't think anyone faults you for your actions."

Robert's reassuring words set Clarice at ease for the moment, but she kept the warmth of total comfort at bay. She asked, "Is that boy okay?"

"Ethan?" Robert asked, then chuckled to himself, as if he suddenly remembered some minor amusement. "He's a tough one. When I saw him this morning, he looked just fine." Robert finished the sandwich and handed the plate to Clarice. He waited until she took a bite and smiled, then he asked, "Are you going to stay here?"

Clarice was glad that she had taken a bite so she didn't have to answer immediately. She chewed slowly, feigning embarrassment for having taken such a large bite. In the few moments Clarice managed to buy herself, she hoped that something—anything—would interrupt their conversation.

She presumed that everyone was simply trying to be nice by offering her a place to stay. But every time someone mentioned it, Clarice was painfully reminded that she was a stranger, who had no parents, no relatives, and no loved ones that she could turn to. Between that and her memory gap, Clarice didn't want to commit to anything...not until she had more answers.

Finally answering an expectant Robert, Clarice said, "It seems like I really don't have a choice."

Robert shook his head sympathetically. "There's always a choice, young lady. Remember that."

On the surface, Robert's words were reassuring, but Clarice caught an undertone of something else that she couldn't quite put her finger on. It was almost like Robert had learned the same lesson in the past, but with painful consequences. She knew there was more to the helping hand than just dusting and cleaning.

"Thanks," Clarice replied. After a pause, she said, "I have a feeling that I'm better off here anyways. At least for the time being. So, what about you? What choice did you make?"

Robert didn't hesitate. "To live and work among young, energetic children with bright futures."

Clarice smiled at that, feeling Robert's answer was genuine. Though she could tell by Robert's physique and the way he carried himself that he had once been a fighter, she decided not to press the issue. Instead, she decided that she would watch him and discover Robert's past on her own.

"Well, thank you for the sandwich, Mr. Noble. You need help?"

Robert shook his head. "Not really, I—"

Disregarding his answer, Clarice grabbed a washcloth, ran it under some hot water, and then commenced to clean the counter nearest her. "Whatever. I shouldn't have asked. I'm helping. Period."

He smiled as he watched Clarice dutifully wipe the surface of the counter. Robert then tended to his portion of the counter, smiling, reminded of a young girl he had long forgotten.

VIII.

"Flying does not constitute an intricately difficult task, Mr. Worthington," Monet St. Croix pompously stated. She floated unaided in the air, purposely separating herself from her other classmates: Michael Lawson, Rico Vidal, Lily Madison, Gaia Sophronia, Jono Starsmore, and Everett Thomas. Her nose turned in the air, she continued, "So, I cannot fully comprehend why I, of all the students, need to be enrolled in a class such as this."

Warren had already been forewarned of Monet's rather difficult disposition. _Stuck up_ was one of the friendlier terms Jubilee used to describe Monet. At the time, Warren took it with a grain of salt, knowing that Jubilee was overdramatic at times and could be a bit difficult herself. However, Monet wasn't falling short of Jubilee's candid description. If anything, Warren wished that Jubilee had disclosed Monet's full attitude.

"It's not just about flying," Warren patiently replied, then directed his following comments toward everyone. "This course is about learning the fundamentals of aerodynamics and tactical flying. As the team flyers, many times, you'll act as a scout, or you may find yourself on your own, which could be dangerous."

Monet narrowed her dark eyes. "Well, that would be true for someone that has no other abilities than to fly. I possess a plethora of offensive abilities and would obviously serve as a paramount staple of any siege's forefront. So again, such lessons are useless for me."

Michael groaned internally, feeling his previously good mood sink into a sour outlook. Exercising his telepathic abilities, he said to her, _"Monet, are you going to be like this the entire class? Warren's just trying to help us learn. You didn't act like this with Jean, what gives?"_

Holding Warren's glare, Monet responded aloud, "I'm concerned for the advancement of my own learning as well. If my talents are beyond the trivial course material, I shall express such in hopes of being advanced to a more suitable learning environment."

"Well," Rico interjected, "I don't think they have a stuck-up one-oh-one class for ya, Monet." A few subdued chuckles helped break the tension, much to Rico's relief. He didn't think that anyone really realized how much he hated arguing. And unnecessary tension.

Tossing back her jet black, silken hair, Monet gave Rico a dismissive glance. "I'm not being _stuck up_ as you so commonly state. Again, I simply desire to face a challenge within these training courses. I can't help it if the rest of you are inferior," Monet made it a point to turn her gaze back to Warren, throwing him into the _inferior_ category as well.

Warren answered, "I think everybody here has quite formidable offensive abilities from what I read in your dossiers. But, just like hand-to-hand combat, if you can't use all of your abilities to your advantage, then you're still the weak link of the team." Warren then crossed his arms. "If you're aiming to get kicked out of class, it's not going to work. Now, you can be a young adult and listen, or you can act like a child and keep interrupting with snooty comments. Either way, you're sticking this class out."

"Whatever," Monet responded, coupling it with an eye roll.

Michael frowned, realizing that whatever was wrong with Monet, it was probably permanent. Or at least wouldn't go away in the immediate, foreseeable future. But what was different between Jean's class and Warren's class? They both were active X-Men, as Rico pointed out before class started. But, then Michael realized the difference between the two, which concerned him.

He figured that Monet didn't respond to Jean in the same way because she was more focused on maintaining her telepathic barriers. And snapping back at Jean would have only caused Jean to possibly try to read her mind. Monet didn't have to exert all that energy in Warren's class. But still, why was she purposefully trying to get them angry? And why didn't she want Jean to read her mind?

Michael started to suspect that there was much more to Monet's attitude than being difficult. If he didn't know any better, he would say that she was hiding something. But what? And was it something dangerous like Emma suspected?

_Ugh, too many questions,_ he lamented, surreptitiously rubbing his temple. He refocused on the task at hand, which was to keep himself aloft with only his telekinesis. It wasn't as if he hadn't done so before, but with his mind all over the place, it seemed to be taking more of an effort than usual.

He wanted to find out what Monet was hiding. But that would be impossible if she got kicked out of class for some reason, so he decided that he would copy Paige's technique from earlier. So, Michael interrupted, "Mr. Worthington, look, I understand the importance of flying, but I'm not too sure about this height thing. I mean, being up this high isn't exactly comfortable for me."

Michael made it no secret that he was afraid of heights. Not really sure when it started or what happened to trigger it, all Michael knew was that when he was high up like this, he felt a distinct sense of foreboding and apprehension, like he could fall at any moment. Thus, every time he found himself in a lofty position, sweat moistened his palms and his stomach dropped.

"Don't worry," Warren assured him, his broad wings slowly flapping behind him. "You'll get used to the being up here. The key is to get comfortable with your powers so you know you won't fall. We'll stay at this height for this week, but next week and every week afterward, we're going to elevate about ten feet."

_"Sounds like fun,"_ Jono mused, grinning as Michael's face dropped.

"I cannot fathom nor adequately interpret your unnecessary trepidation," Monet said. "Not that much time has transpired from when we faced Nightmare. And you had to fly at that time, no?"

Michael was surprised that Monet even took the time to address him, considering how she had been acting all day. To her, he replied, "That doesn't mean that I liked it. My hand was kind of forced. I've got somewhat of a choice right now."

"Yeah, fly or fail," Warren said.

"Or fall," Gaia gleefully added.

Michael frowned. "Yeah. Thanks, guys."

Warren continued, "Now, your individual evaluations will be graded with respect to your individual flying method. This is because all four of you have different methods of flying: physically aided flight, air current, telekinesis, and transvection. And they all have their own advantages and disadvantages."

Warren continued on to explain the intricacies of flight and maneuverability, but Michael just couldn't focus. Not only was he worried about the height, but he kept wondering about Monet and the secret she was hiding. And in between those thoughts, every other worry that he had kept popping in and out of his mind.

_"Maybe I do need to try Jean's therapy,"_ Michael sighed to himself. Taking another breath, he attempted to focus on Warren's lecture, but by the end of class as they lowered themselves to the ground, Michael knew he would be playing catch-up. He vowed to talk to Everett at least to get the gist of today's lesson.

His mind still on everything but class, Michael followed the rest of his chatting classmates as they returned to the school.

Notes

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional

: My ever-faithful reviewer! No matter how much time passes, I can always count on you to keep up with the story. Thanks for the review. Glad you liked the Monet/Bobby/Jubilee farce. It was fun to write, and I hope it was just as much fun to read. Don't worry...the chapters are flowing a little more freely now!

Reizo: Thanks for the kind words, and I hope you enjoy the rest of the story.


	29. School Begins, Part 3

I.

Paige Guthrie stormed down the hallway, her fists clenched at her sides, as her heels dug into the floor with each step. She barely heard Jono's rapid steps behind her, quickly closing the gap, which only infuriated her more. Turning quickly into her room, she thought about slamming the door in Jono's face, but he was in the doorway before she could, so she simply crossed her arms and glared at him.

She couldn't believe that Jono had acted so childish at lunch!

After classes ended, Paige made her way to the dining room, led by the aroma of grilled chicken and asparagus with just a hint of lemon and the smell of garlic potatoes. Once she entered the dining room, she spotted exactly what she smelled, and a smile crossed her face. It reminded her of her mother's delicious home cooking.

From the left end of the table, Ethan stopped chatting with Everett and Angelo to wave Paige over. With an inviting smile, he motioned to the empty seat right next to him, and Paige could swear that he winked. Feeling a bit embarrassed, Paige hesitated for a moment, just long enough for Jono to step in front of her.

"Hi, Jono," Paige said, attempting to step around him, but he didn't budge.

_ "I don't want you sitting with 'im."_

Stunned, Paige froze. "Wait. Excuse me? Are you joking?" She managed a slight jovial smile, but his stark expression deadened her mood.

Jono's lips narrowed to a tight line and his eyebrows furrowed. _"We need to talk."_

"About what?"

Jono shifted his weight uncomfortably. _"I don't know. I mean—"_

In between a bout of laughter, Angelo said from the table, "Hey, Jono! Paige! What are you two doing? Get over here! Ev's crackin' some loco jokes over here."

Paige eased around Jono, hoping to avoid a confrontation or a scene. The day was pleasant up to this point, and she wanted to keep it that way.

_"Are you datin' 'im now?"_ Jono loudly asked, purposefully broadcasting his comment to everyone.

Her face hot with embarrassment, Paige shot Ethan an apologetic glance as she shot from the table and up the stairs. Jono and Ethan locked eyes for only a moment, then Jono noticed everyone else at the table giving him either puzzled or stern glares. Jono went after Paige, disregarding Jubilee's banter and Vanessa's warning.

Following Paige to her room, Jono stopped right inside the doorway. _"So you're pissed because I asked—"_

"No, Jono. I'm upset because you don't know when to quit."

_"All I want to know is if you're dating that bloke now,"_ Jono pressed.

"It's really none of your business," Paige snapped. "It stopped being your business when you broke up with me."

Jono recoiled, obviously caught off-guard by Paige's bluntness. _"Why are you actin' like this? This isn't the Paige I know."_

"Maybe you don't know me at all," she shook her head, taking a deep breath. "We tried it. It didn't work. I _had_ to move on. What else was I supposed to do?"

_"Well, you didn't 'ave to date 'im of all people."_

"You don't get a say in who I date."

_"He's—"_

"Doing a much better job of showing that he cares," she cut him off, not wanting to entertain anything that Jono had to say. Softening only slightly, she added, "That's all I wanted. But you—you couldn't do that."

_"I 'ad a gapin' 'ole in my chest. I crippled Gayle with my powers. I blew up 'alf the damn dorms when we tried to kiss."_

"Don't play the sympathy card with me. It's not going to work. You're fixed now, and you think that just magically makes everything else better? No, Jono, it doesn't. I liked you regardless of how you looked or whatever else was going on. And you just threw it back in my face. Did you ever stop to think about how _I _felt?"

Paige told herself that she wasn't going to show any emotion—that she wouldn't dare let Jono see her cry again. But as the tears welled up and Paige repeated her vow, the feelings rushed back to the forefront of her mind, overriding any restraint she thought she had. And like a leaking dam, the tears streamed down her reddened cheeks.

The back of her hand shoved away the unwanted tears as she stared at Jono. So many emotions flooded through her right then—anger, love, hate, guilt, pain, sympathy, longing, hope, sadness—but they were a kaleidoscope, ebbing and flowing at such a rapid pace that Paige swore that she felt dizzy and nauseous like she had been spinning around.

"Just..." Paige trailed off, feeling another bout of tears coming on. "Just leave."

Jono reached out to touch Paige's arm, but she quickly pulled away. "Leave."

A knock disrupted the scene, and Paige threw a glance toward the door, her eyes leaving Jono for the first time since they had entered her room. "Come in," she softly commanded, steadying her voice.

Ethan opened the door slowly, noting the quiver in her voice. But when he saw Jono, his features darkened. "Is everything okay, Paige?"

"It's fine, Ethan. Jono was just leaving," Paige turned back to Jono and stated. Her blue eyes were cold, reinforcing her request for Jono to leave. Now.

Jono returned a desperate plea within his own face, hoping that Paige would just hear him out. But her unflinching expression told him that his time had completely run out. Whatever they had, as of right now, it was definitely over.

_"Yeah, I guess I was."_ Jono stuck his hands in his jean pockets. He turned away from Paige and met Ethan's gaze, locking eyes with him. For only a moment, the two were embroiled in an unspoken battle, with Paige as the prize. But as quickly as it started, it was over. Jono broke, and simply strode past Ethan, only bushing his shoulder ever so slightly.

Ignoring it, Ethan's attention fell to Paige. "I just—"

Paige held up a silencing hand. "I'm sorry. I just...I need some time alone, okay?"

His own mood soured, Ethan nodded. "Yeah. I understand. A lot has happened. Just let me know if you need anything."

"I will," Paige responded as Ethan turned and left, closing the door behind him. She fell against the door, willing herself not to break down. Never had she experienced this much heartache and pain.

_ If this is what love is, I don't want any part of it!_

Taking a deep breath, Paige steadied herself, crossed her room, and pulled her new training uniform out, laying it on the bed. She stood back and admired it for a moment, pushing her soured emotions away.

"That's right. You're a part of the X-Men. You want to be a leader, so act like it, girl," Paige said aloud. Steeling herself, Paige stripped out of her clothes and into her training uniform, replacing her heartbreak with the vigor she felt on day one of arriving to the school. Eventually, Paige knew that she would have to deal directly with her feelings for both Ethan and Jono, but for now, she was Husk of Generation X. And for the rest of today, that's all that mattered.

II.

_So, here I am. Floating upside down in the middle of my room, imagining all of my worries inside of little boxes._

It didn't take much for Michael Lawson to suspend himself in the air, upside down, sitting lotus style. And it only took a little more effort to split his concentration between holding himself aloft and performing Jean's recommended mental therapy to help him deal with everything that was bothering him up to this point. He could see why this was a good exercise, since he never really had to utilize his telekinesis and telepathy at the same time. It was kind of weird doing both at once, but once he got used to the feeling, Michael really wasn't sure why he hadn't been doing it all along.

In his mind, he had always seen the two as distinct acts, not meant to be used in parallel. He never thought that it was impossible to do, but the opportunity had never really presented itself. Until now.

Not only that, but he also had to concentrate on the inner workings of his own body. Normally, suspended upside down like this, blood would have rushed to his head and probably caused him to blackout. But when he felt the effects coming on, he simply focused a part of his efforts on keeping his blood flow exactly the same as if he were standing. He was sure that if he talked to Dr. Reyes or Dr. McCoy, they would have some lengthy medical synopsis of what he was doing and how. All Michael knew is that he felt fine, despite being upside down for the past twenty minutes.

His eyes closed, Michael imagined his concerns and worries as tangible objects with a compact, amorphous shape, able to be moved and manipulated at his command. Each one was colored differently and disappeared into a corresponding box with a lid. As Michael psionically packed, he felt his burdened mood lightening.

"What are you doing?"

The voice cut through Michael's serene concentration, startling him so much that he completely lost all focus and fell. "Damn!" Michael exclaimed as he flipped at the last second, barely landing on his feet. One hand rubbing his temple while the other balanced him, Michael telepathically recognized his visitor before actually seeing him.

"Rico, you scared me," he said breathlessly. He could feel his heart still racing and his muscles twitched as if he were in immediate danger.

"Sorry, man. But you're awfully jumpy these days. And what the hell were you doing in the air like that? I've been knocking on your door for the past two minutes. Didn't you hear me?"

"No, I didn't hear anything," Michael stated as he stood. "I was just doing this exercise from class. I guess I was in my own world." He made light of it, but really, Michael was surprised that he was totally unaware of anything around him. He made a mental note to keep a psionic eye open while doing something like that next time.

"Vanessa figured you'd be late for the Danger Room session, so she told me to get you." Michael glanced at his watch then looked back up at Rico, only then noticing the training uniform. Rico's, long-sleeved shirt, with a dark red stripe crawling up both sleeves, loose cargo pants, and combat boots looked almost like his normal apparel, except that it was mostly black with dark red accents. The gloves as a finishing touch, Rico looked more like a grungy mall-rat than a junior mutant-in-training.

"I didn't realize the time! Damn!"

Rico held back a laugh as Michael rushed to the closet, found his training uniform, and began to strip out of his clothes.

"Hey, I need one of your X-Men history lessons on Jean," Michael managed to request as he used a combination of physical effort and telekinesis to take off his clothes.

"You on a first-name basis with her, eh?" Rico slyly asked.

"No. She said to call her that. Like Iceman. And Forge."

"Codenames. First names. Big difference."

"Don't be dumb. Just give me the facts."

"She's one of the original X-Men. Married to Scott Summers. Went by the codename Marvel Girl. Now Phoenix. A dual-psionic, like you. Also has the unique ability to tap into a foreign power known as the Phoenix."

Michael's interest piqued. "The Phoenix? What's that?"

"I don't know too much about that, actually. It's kind of convoluted to say the least. But it's some kind of cosmic force, I guess, that ultimately has the power to create and destroy."

"Wait a sec. She's got that kind of power?"

"Yeah. And just like the bird of legend, she sometimes displays a fiery...I don't know...like an image of a bird around her."

"Flaming bird?"

"Yeah, I guess it's a flaming bird. Kinda like the story of the Phoenix. You know, the bird that like lives for so long then burns to ashes just so that a new one can be born."

"Interesting," Michael said as he pulled on his gloves. Fully geared up, he took a deep breath, anticipating what the future held.

"What're you not tellin' me, man?"

Michael looked away for a moment, "I'm not really sure yet myself." A pensive silence hung in the air, before he broke it. "We're going to be late. Let's go."

Michael and Rico only took a few sprinting steps before setting themselves aloft with their respective powers. He telekinetically shot down the hallway and around a corner, followed closely by Rico, who used air currents to propel himself forward. While Michael's telekinesis only affected his own body, Rico's air currents ruffled rugs and drapes as he blew past.

Instead of taking the stairs, the flying duo simply soared over the balcony and dove downward to the first floor, pulling up at the last possible second, then zoomed down the hallway. Michael and Rico glided into the Danger Room, quietly settling in the back as Tom scribbled on notes in front of them.

The entire teenaged student body was present in the Danger Room, which made this the only class that all of them had together.

Without looking up from the roster in his hands, Tom said, "You're cuttin' it close, Lawson. Vidal."

"It was my fault, Mr. Corsi," Michael admitted. He noted a childish snicker from Angelo and Jubilee making a _shame, shame_ gesture with her index fingers.

_Great. Late on the first day. First impression—a hot mess_, Michael sourly thought.

"Tom in the Danger Room," he reminded them, finishing his annotations then glancing up at the two sternly. "And put a little more effort into being early. Early is on time. On time is late. And late...well, a lot of bad things could happen."

"Got it," Rico jovially responded with a thumbs up.

"Understood," Michael quietly said.

"Alright. Every week, I'll be putting a group of you through a training scenario at the beginning of class. Marvel, Helios, Chamber, Vanguard, Lightwing, you're up. Danger room scenario number six-one-six-one-nine-six-three-zero-zero-one. Chamber, you're taking the lead on this one. Magneto's your target."

Rico said, "Magneto?! Whoa! Isn't he like the biggest X-Men arch-enemy of the century? That's like our final, right? I mean, shouldn't lesson one be against the the Vanisher, the Blob, or some other C-lister?"

Giving a less-than-sympathetic smile, Tom replied, "If you know all that, then you should know that the X-Men's first distress call ended up with them facing Magneto. Teamwork is key, kids. Good luck," Tom said as he and the rest of the students faded into the background.

The metallic floors and ceiling morphed into a sprawling, barren expanse, spotted sparingly with patches of grass or the occasional shrub. Not too far from them, desert dust colored buildings, most no higher than two stories, disrupted the level ground. Symmetrical and boring, the buildings, presumably hiding a vast, multilevel underground structure, were clustered together near a long, wide runway. Not too far from the base was a large body of water—Jono figured it was the Atlantic Ocean, but in retrospect, he didn't pay that much attention to the location of the missile base in the study material.

_Magneto must be there,_ Jono assessed. He glanced over his team and already knew that he was in trouble. First, there was Ethan, and honestly, Jono hated the fact that he was getting so close to Paige. And Jono swore that Ethan knew it and purposefully flaunted it in his face. And his interruption earlier didn't make Jono like him any more. If anything, Ethan was the first person that Jono could say that he hated.

Michael and Vincent were on his team as well. It was well-known that those two didn't get along, but Jono didn't really have a problem with Michael. He seemed to be an okay guy, just a little focused, a bit too serious, and dangerously mysterious. Vincent, on the other hand, had quite the temper and always seemed to be standoffish. It wasn't that Jono didn't like him—he was sure that Vincent just didn't like anyone.

And lastly was Lily, who was the team sweetheart. She got along with everybody and had nothing bad to say about anyone.

Ultimately, Jono already knew that personal attitudes, to include his, would get in the way of the mission. But Tom had trusted him as the leader, so Jono pushed his animosity and issues with Ethan aside and hoped the others could do the same.

But at least they _looked_ like a team. Dressed in their new training outfits, the five teens resembled a small squad of highly trained professionals sent in to infiltrate Magneto's current base of operations. The all black with varying dark red accents made them appear intimidating and official. Hopefully, Magneto would think the same thing and give up easily.

_"Alright, mates,"_ Jono began, stepping forward, eyes toward the missile base. With them being so close to the water, he was surprised that there wasn't more shrubbery or growth around them. So, they had no cover, eliminating the element of surprise.

Realizing the head-on fight they were going into, Jono continued, _"This bloke controls magnetic shit, so be careful about gettin' too close. He's good enough t' control th' iron in our bodies. And he's not afraid t' use deadly force."_

Jono felt the pulses emanating from some foreign energy. _Electomagnetic shield,_ he deduced. As they neared the base, the vibes became stronger, and he knew that the barrier was strong enough to physically keep them from getting any closer. _"It seems like he's out up a barrier to block us out,"_ Jono informed his teammates.

About fifty meters away from the closest buildings is where the shield halted their progress. Small bolts of electricity snaked on the surface of the barrier, the only indication that there was anything actually there. To make sure, he picked up a small rock and heaved it. As soon as it struck the barrier, the electricity came alive and attacked it, frying it to nothing more than flakes of ashes.

"How can we get through?" Lily asked, a worried expression on her face.

Michael stepped forward offering his own idea. "Chamber, why don't you try to blast through it? Your biokinetic energy may be able to—"

"That's the stupidest thing I've heard," Vincent interjected.

_"At least it's an idea,"_ Jono responded. _"Do you have something better in mind?"_

"Do whatever you want. I don't care. I didn't ask to be on this team anyways," Vincent crossed his arms and glared, his ice blue eyes angry.

_"Well, we don't get to chose our teams, so let's make the best of it. Everybody, stand back,"_ said Jono.

He took a deep breath, focusing the energy coursing through his entire body into his fists, now pointed at the shield. With a grunt, Jono let the biokinetic energy loose, and only a fraction of a second later, the amber energy collided with the shield with a hard _zap_. The attack turned into a ferocious duel between the two differing energies, but the barrier held strong against Jono, even after he pushed his energy level to deadly levels.

Not even feeling a hint of progress, Jono pulled his attack back. _"It's no use, I can't break through. I don't think I even made a dent."_ Jono mentally shuffled through his team roster, then smiled as an idea popped into his head. _"Maybe we can create an energy attack strong enough to disrupt the shield at least long enough for us to get through. Lightwing, Marvel, Wildfire, you up for it?"_

"I don't know if my telekinesis can help, but I'll try," Michael said.

Lily nodded. "Yes. I'll do my best!"

"Yeah, whatever. It still sounds stupid to me," Vincent shrugged nonchalantly.

_That kid really grates on my nerves,_ Jono thought but kept his expression neutral. Counting off, he gave the cue for the trio to add their own respective forms of energy to his own attack.

_My full potential, huh?_ Michael thought as he remembered both Emma's comment and the mysterious voice's statement. He took a deep breath, focusing his mind on his telekinesis, but Michael felt something different this time. A different kind of energy teemed within his entire body. Focusing the white-hot energy into his hands, Michael shot his hand out and a blue flash of energy responded, pouring from his hand to the target area of the shield.

Ethan watched in amazement as his teammate unleashed an unrecognizable, powerful psionic attack. Michael's normally invisible telekinesis was now a formidable energy blast, close to Jono's own biokinetic blasts. He made a mental note to ask Michael about it later, but now wasn't the time.

The combined energies of Jono, Lily, Michael, and Vincent combined into a lightshow of sorts, crackling and hissing as they bombarded the magnetic shield. It took only a few moments for the barrier to begin to give, creating a visible clash showing the sturdy shield buckling. Before too much longer, the attack completely burst through the shield with a loud sound somewhere between a _zap_ and a _boom_.

"Everybody through, now!" Jono commanded, leading the charge through the newly created entrance. Ethan was close behind, tapping into his enhanced speed. Michael floated through with Lily flying at his side, and Vincent trailed.

"We did it!" Lily smiled once the shield reformed behind them, as if they had never touched it.

Jono said, _"Yeah, now we're in the lion's den. Marvel, are there any hostages?"_

Michael narrowed his brown eyes for a moment, instantly allowing his mind to expand past its normal day-to-day limitations. It was like a wide door being swung open as he mentally reached out beyond where just his eyes could see, searching in a way that could only be described as magnificent and daunting at the same time.

His search lasted a fraction of a second, ending his scan for any foreign thought patterns. Answering Jono, Michael replied, "Negative. I don't sense anyone here inside of the shield. But I didn't find Magneto either. My guess is that he's probably somehow shielded from psychic probes and attacks."

_"We'll do this the old fashioned way then. Lightwing, Helios, and I'll take this side."_

"Splitting up isn't a good idea. We're not sure what we're up against," Ethan argued.

_"We'll cover more ground if we split up. Marvel can keep us in touch, and alert everyone if there's any issues."_

"No. We're staying together," responded Ethan, as if his words were final.

_"You're not leadin' this mission,"_ Jono kept his voice neutral but firm, refraining from letting his anger from earlier cloud his response in this situation.

"But you don't lead anything. You don't know the first thing about—" Ethan.

Michael interjected, "Knock it off. Both of you. Did you forget that we're in class? And that Magneto's lurking around here somewhere? Pull it together. I'm definitely not a fan of splitting up, but if Chamber thinks that's best, then let's just go with it."

"Agreed," Lily said with a pleasant smile.

Ethan slit his eyes at Jono, but said nothing more, realizing that Michael was right. As he crossed his arms, resolving himself to take a backseat, his enhanced hearing caught the sound of something launching. Several somethings. "Wait! Did any of you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Vincent asked.

_"Above you."_

Michael's heart pounded against his ribcage. It was the voice again, but this time, it was giving him a warning, instead of cryptic power babble. But how did it know what was happening? Unless somehow...

He immediately cast his eyes skyward and witnessed missiles launch straight into the air from somewhere behind the buildings. Following their arc, Michael quickly realized that the missiles were headed straight towards them, picking up speed as they grew dangerously closer. "Guys, we've got trouble. Look!" Michael alerted.

The others turned skyward and saw a group of missiles, complete with a jet of fire and gas pouring from the back, headed towards them in a downward arc. The missiles were still far enough away though for them to react, and Jono didn't waste another second.

_"Damn. Missiles. Divert or destroy the blasted things. Keep damage to a minimum," _Jono commanded, as he focused his biokinetic energy into his fists. In the next split second, he cut loose, ensuring that he bombarded the missiles with enough energy for them to explode on contact and for the remaining fragments to be disintegrated into mere atomic particles.

While Jono took an aggressive approach, Lily wasn't sure that her blasts of light force would have the same effect as his attack. Remembering what Warren taught them earlier, Lily decided that if she was going to practice her tactical flying, this was the time to do it. Her radiant wings appeared from seemingly nowhere, their outline a brilliant shine while still being mysteriously translucent.

She shot straight up into the sky and glided effortlessly into the path of the missiles. Noting their trajectory change, Lily steadied herself as two missiles decided that she was a viable target. Taking sharp angled turns and increasing her velocity, she managed to put enough distance between her and the pursuing missiles to keep herself relatively safe but not lose their interest.

Lily paused for a beat, then soared around in a graceful curve that sent her and the missiles heading back to their originating point. And just as she suspected, more missiles fired from the unseen launch pad and found her as their target as well. Lily focused harder as her plan slowly came together. She headed directly towards the oncoming missiles, then at the last possible second pulled up, the collision of the missiles and resulting explosion trailing her ascent.

Breathing hard and slightly shaking, Lily glided to a stop, hovering over the quickly dissipating fireball. She couldn't believe that her plan had actually worked, and that she wasn't hurt in the process. But this wasn't the time for a pat on the back. Lily immediately scanned the base from her position above, hoping to catch a glimpse of Magneto, but he was nowhere to be found.

_"You find Magneto?"_ Michael telepathically asked Ethan, having kept track of everyone's whereabouts psychically.

"No. Nothing. But there's one more missile heading right towards you!"

"Not a problem. All I have to do," Michael stated aloud as he concentrated, "is take hold of it with my telekinesis and redirect it into the ocean!" The scene unfolded just as he narrated, ending with a distant explosion in the water, completely away from the base.

_"Vanguard, if you can stop bein' an ass fer two seconds, find Magneto while we take care of these missiles,"_ Jono shot.

"Do not worry," a gravelly, innately evil voice called from above, cutting off Ethan's snappy response. "I, the Master of Magnetism, have found you!"

Jono glanced up, as Magneto eyed his new foes with deadly intent and an interest that could only have stemmed from seeing not one, but, five of mutants, like him. Jono remembered that this event really did occur, but it was at a time where mutants were few and far in between. At the same time, Jono found it shallow for Magneto to have thought he was the only one capable of manipulating matter and energy no human could ever touch, even in their wildest dreams.

"You should've gotten away while you had the chance!" Ethan dashed towards him.

With only a mere flick of his wrist, Magneto levitated barrels, metal rods, bolts, and anything else of a metallic nature. "Fool! I can stop your advance by simply encasing you with every metal object within my reach, then pinning you to the ground."

Despite making a sharp turn to avoid the attack, Ethan found that somehow, he was at the center of the objects' congregation as every metal object encased him in a makeshift cage.

"I—I can't—move!" Ethan shouted, finding that his strength didn't do him any good as the metal held fast.

_"Lightwing, Helios. Focus on Magneto. Marvel, help Vanguard!" _Jono barked out orders concisely, right before focusing his own attacks at Magneto. But the elder villain easily used flat, metal panels as shields, deflecting their attacks from every angle.

"You children are no match for me."

"That's what you think," Vincent replied as he threw a swirling ball of fire at Magneto.

"Ha!" Magneto used another metal plate to swat the attack into a gas tank. The outside of it burning, Magneto acted quickly—while still blocking Jono's and Lily's attack, he levitated the gas tank into the air, holding it there just for show. In the next second, Magneto hurled the burning tank downward, while tearing a hole just big enough for the flame to reach the flammable liquid inside.

"Marvel?!" Ethan gasped as the tank pummeled toward them.

"I've got it!" Michael yelled as he held his hand palm up toward the sky, directing the force of his telekinesis upward. Michael focused on slowing then steadying the metal tank in while erecting a telekinetic shield around them. But before he could do something about the flames, the situation took the worst turn possible—the tiniest of flames touched the flammable liquid, resulting in a massive explosion.

Michael braced himself, but was almost swept off his feet. He maintained his shield and his hold of the tank, suspending it in midair. The tank was no problem, but the flames—that was a completely different story. The heat and fire chipped away at Michael's telekinetic shield, and he found himself applying more and more force just to maintain a reasonably safe distance.

But it wasn't going to be enough.

The inferno licked away at the invisible barrier, as it continued to build in intensity, fueled by the gas continuing to pour from the tank. His strength waning, Michael wasn't sure how long he could keep this up. He could hear Jono in the background, giving out orders, while Lily, despite the worry in her voice, gave him encouragement.

His temples throbbed, and Michael was sure that his telekinesis would give out, sending them into a torturous, flaming end. But he had to protect them—his teammates...his friends. And Michael continued to push himself, against the pain and against the odds. Then, it happened.

Just as before, Michael felt something unlock deep within him. Before, it scared him, but this time, he welcomed it, knowing that unleashing this power would save his friends, just as it had at Arminthorpe. The strain suddenly lightened as Michael's otherwise invisible telekinesis became a visible shield of azure, flashing against the red, orange, and yellow hues of the fire above. Baring his teeth, he felt not only the metal being held at bay, but the fire and heat as well.

A part of him knew that he had exposed himself fully, and whoever was monitoring this session would have questions. Lots of them. But he had to deal in the present, whatever happened after this would take care of itself. As the fire continued to cascade and fuel itself, so did Michael's powers.

Michael felt exactly the same as he did during his fight with Arminthorpe—powerful, unlimited, and vast. Somehow, he had again tapped into an extraordinary power within himself, and now wielded something much more than any person less than a god should. And he embraced it fully, understanding the boundless energies of the astral plane and something beyond strictly under his control, limited only by his human nature.

From his place above, Magneto could only see the fiery explosion right above the teens. Gloating, he said, "Now, with them out of the way, nothing remains to interfere with the master plan of the miraculous Magneto!"

But his triumphant win was short-lived as the flames swirled about, as if taken over by a violent wind, only the air was still and calm. Magneto continued to watch as the flames dissipated, leaving behind the charred tank, still sloshing with the remaining gas. Curiously, the tank hovered in mid-air, rotating ever so slowly on an invisible axis.

Looking past the tank, Magneto spied Michael with both his hands extended in the direction of the hovering tank. Blue energy rippled around him like an aura of fire, yet, it stayed close and controlled, having no effect on the other four teens standing close to him.

The desert-colored tank, probably thousands of pounds, with flammable written in red stenciled lettering, lowered to the ground as gently as a feather, and the young man responsible glared at Magneto.

"Nice alliteration," Michael complimented with a knowing smirk. "But you talk too much. And you don't know who you're dealing with. We're not your traditional X-Men. We're Generation X. And you're history."

Taking advantage of Michael's momentary distraction, Jono took a quick shot, his biokinetic energy finding its target right on Magneto's chest. The villain cried out in pain as he recoiled from the impact, lost his concentration, and tumbled through the air. He managed to catch himself at the last moment, floating only inches above the ground.

Stunned and desperate, Magneto threw out his hand, random metal objects responding as if Magneto had physically thrown every one of them. Any metal object not nailed down became a deadly projectile, moving at his command.

_"Evasive maneuvers!"_ Jono commanded, dodging a steel barrel and several metallic poles. But instead of retreating, he pushed forward, leaping and bounding over the oncoming objects while nudging some out of the way with short biokinetic bursts. _"I'm goin' in. Back me up!"_

_"No problem,"_ Michael replied. Easily redirecting the objects flying towards him, Michael concentrated on keeping the five of them psychically connected, so Jono's orders and intentions could be relayed at the speed of thought. Keeping the lines open among them should have been much more taxing, but he did it with ease, acting as the telepathic hub while he actively engaged his now visible telekinetic energies.

_"What the hell are you doing, Chamber?!"_ Ethan quizzed as he ducked underneath a flying barrel.

_"Takin' this bloke out. Stay back."_

_"Not a smart idea. You said—"_

_"You_ _goin' to start a bloody argument, or you gonna actually contribute to this team?"_

Ethan punched a barrel out of his direct path as he advanced, and it clattered to his side, its once definite cylindrical shape now dented and contorted. His strength and adrenaline flowing, because of both Magneto and Jono, Ethan launched forward, using his speed and dexterity to dodge and hurdle his obstacles.

_"If that's the game you're playing, fine. We'll see who get's there first,"_ Ethan thought to himself, but forgot that he was still broadcasting over the telepathic communication lines Michael maintained between them.

_"Now you're gonna make this into a race? Real mature, mate,"_

_ "Yeah, just as mature as your conversation with Paige earlier."_

_ "You eavesdropping—ugh!" _The broad side of a dumpster sideswiped Jono in the middle of an otherwise well-timed leap over flying metal grates, cutting his advance and sentence painfully short. Jono shook off the minor pain, thankful for the newly designed training outfits Emma gave them, able to absorb the brunt of about thirty to forty percent of physical impacts. On one knee, he caught his breath, his anger with Ethan and Magneto fueling his second wind, but then the sun was blotted out.

Stunned, Jono cast his eyes skyward and was barely surprised to see a large dumpster floating high above his head, casting him in its shadow. The dumpster remained in a stationary spot in the air, barely moving. Then in the next split second, it fell as if the strings holding it aloft were suddenly cut. The dumpster's full weight carried it toward the ground with increasing force every passing second.

_"Bloody 'ell!"_ he exclaimed. No time to waste, Jono rolled to the side, the deep _clang_ of the dumpster against the concrete punctuating his successful dodge. Barely to his feet, Jono whipped around with the intent on getting another good shot in at first sight, but Magneto was nowhere to be seen.

_ "Guys, this is the wrong time to be fighting about anything other than what we're going to do with this guy,"_ Michael snapped, throwing his comment in between buffeting metal drums of foreign substances, dangerously sharp iron shards, and heavy steel ores. Impressing even himself, he simply applied enough of a force to the oncoming dangers to either stop them in mid-air or nudge them out of his path, while using only a fraction of concentration to communicate telepathically.

The telepathic part was tricky because it was just like Jean said—if he was linked to everyone's mind, they were linked to his in the same way. Therefore, he had to narrow the link to only pick up thoughts that were purposefully projected, which so far was working quite well.

_"He started it,"_ Ethan uncharacteristically replied, as he leaped nearly eight feet straight into the air to avoid another wave of random metal objects.

Michael had known Ethan the longest of any of them, having met him almost five years ago at the Arminthorpe Corporation. Even then, Ethan's mature, cool demeanor impressed Michael, and it was one of the main reasons they got along. This was the first time that Michael had ever heard Ethan sound so...childish.

_"If we don't pull it together, Magneto will finish it,"_ Michael strongly replied, ensuring that his telepathic statement resounded within their minds loud and clear.

Jono grimaced. _"Crank down the bloody volume. I hear you jus' fine. Tell your chum to act like we're in a trainin' session."_

_"You're the one acting like we're in the latest episode of Grey's—"_ Ethan stopped as a sharp flash of pain erupted behind his eyes. But as quickly as it happened, it was gone, and Ethan couldn't feel a trace of anything. Throwing a glance in Jono's direction, Ethan could tell something had happened to him as well.

_"That's my second warning,"_ Michael kept his telepathic voice even. _"I'm not keeping us connected for you two to fight."_ He wasn't quite sure how he had done it, but his annoyance became an acute attack, only affecting Jono and Ethan, despite Lily and Vincent being telepathically connected as well.

_"Fine. We need to regroup. Where are Lightwing and Helios?"_ Jono asked.

Michael first pinpointed Vincent telepathically, then made visual confirmation of his location. But before Michael could say anything, he witnessed Vincent fall victim to Magneto's desperate attack.

A mistimed dodge resulted in a cascade of metal objects catching Vincent's legs and arms, pinning him to a tall antenna tower. Immobile and angry, Vincent spat out every curse word he knew and even a few more that surprised Michael.

It only took him another second to spot Lily, who appeared to be barely holding her own against Magneto's barrage of attacks.

_"Vanguard, Chamber. Helios and Lightwing are struggling. I'm going in to help."_ Michael suddenly stopped as he felt a foreign thought pattern materialize out of nowhere, and he prepared to communicate the appearance to everyone as Magneto finally coming out of hiding. But there was something not quite right about this new presence.

Upon his first gleaning of information, Michael couldn't read any malevolent thoughts or intentions—rather the thought stream was riddled with surprise, focus, and agitation. Confused, Michael turned in the direction of the mysterious thought pattern, and instead of Magneto, he found a young female, dressed in something that Paige would wear—a flannel shirt, jeans, and old tennis shoes.

Her lavender-hued skin first caught Michael's attention, then the strange markings on her face, resembling tattoos. She stepped out of a portal of sorts, outlined with rippling pink energy, and as soon as her feet touched the ground, she took a low stance as more metal debris flew over her head.

"Where am I now?" Clarice rhetorically asked. It wasn't until she rolled to the side and got back to her feet that she saw three other males—one seemingly deflected the oncoming dangers with some invisible force, the other shot rounds of amber energy from his hands, and the last one moved much too quickly to not be gifted.

Cursing, she thought about teleporting away, but then she spied a redheaded teen pinned against an antenna and another blond girl, desperately avoiding the flying obstacles. _I'm in the middle of a warzone!_ she gasped to herself. Clarice figured she had little time to figure out how she had teleported from the security of the school into complete chaos and even less time to figure out who the good guys were.

_"Who th' bloody 'ell is that? Where did she come from? Marvel?"_

_"I don't know,"_ Michael replied to Jono, just as perplexed by the girl's appearance as Jono. Remembering that they were in the Danger Room, Michael thought for a moment that she could simply be a part of the program. But Tom said nothing about any kind of weird curveballs being thrown at them in the battle. Plus, her thought pattern was as real as it could get, though Michael wasn't really sure whether the Danger Room could simulate a human-like thought pattern. Regardless, Tom only mentioned that they were to be battling Magneto, not him and some pink girl.

From the way she moved, Michael could tell that she was dangerous to say the least. Her body twisted with a fluidity and grace of a seasoned fighter, much like Kiana.

_"It's the girl from earlier, Clarice!"_ Ethan exclaimed. _"How did she get in here?"_

_"Spatial displacement or teleportation in layman's terms,"_ Emma telepathically interjected, broadcasting to all five teens. _"I've asked Tom to keep the scenario running until one of two things happen: you beat Magneto or he beats you. Figure it out. Clarice, I strongly suggest you assist your new teammates, otherwise you'll all fail."_

That woman...Emma. Clarice's agitation peaked, but she wasn't really sure why. There was just something about Emma that struck a bad chord with her, and though she couldn't pinpoint it, Clarice knew that it was only going to get worse over time.

Pushing her irritation aside, Clarice flipped forward, springing off of one hand. She wished that instead of the cumbersome flannel shirt and jeans, she was in her battle outfit. Though more revealing—a green, knee length dress with slips up the sides, durable matching boots, and her javelin case—it provided her with greater mobility and freedom. Still, she would have to make due with what she had, and pray she didn't end up ruining Paige's clothes.

_"Team, 'ead to the 'angar! Now!"_ Jono commanded over the telepathic lines. Michael ended the command with a mental picture of the hangar, including a gentle nudge in the proper direction.

Seeing that Clarice was closer, Michael telepathically said just to her, _"You're closer. Save the redheaded guy pinned to the antenna."_

Clarice knew that it wasn't the time to ask questions. She immediately spotted the individual the telepath asked her to rescue, and within less than a second, Clarice had teleported to the redhead's side.

"The telepath told me to save you," she explained, noting his fire red hair and ice blue eyes. Focusing her power carefully, her eyes radiated the same energy that outlined her portals. In the next split second, every piece of debris pinning Vincent to the antenna fragmented at odd, random angles. Then, the pieces all fell to the ground, the metal clattering against the concrete.

Vincent surveyed the damage, perplexed. "What the hell did you do?"

"Didn't you listen to your teacher up there? Spatial displacement. Looks like you've got some homework. Need a lift to the warehouse?"

Gruffly, Vincent replied, "I'll get there myself."

"Suit yourself then," she shrugged. Clarice sprinted forward, leaped in the air, then after a sound of a _blink_, she vanished, reappearing only a few seconds later in mid-air. She relaxed her body and landed gracefully on the dusty floor, glancing about as she stood.

Crates, heavy machinery, and covered equipment lined the outer perimeter of the hangar. In the middle, a large aircraft was parked there with about a coat less of dust than everything else. Clarice wasn't exactly knowledgeable about the different types of planes, but she thought that it was a C-130. Rays of sunlight managed to peek through the dirty, high windows lining either side, but the immediate area was still dim at best.

The ruckus from outside was barely audible from within the hangar, so Clarice was slightly surprised when the large hangar door slid open with a relatively smooth motion, despite its heavy appearance. Rusted and dark, it slid open with only a few squeals in protest.

Watching the door carefully, Clarice relaxed when she saw the teens from outside clamber through the opening. Only after they were all inside did the telepath face the door, hold his hand out, and, to her, magically slam the door with much more force than it opened with. She figured that he must have been a telekinetic as well, noting the rarity for a single individual to have both abilities.

Michael turned from the door, the blue telekinetic energy in his eyes dissipating. "This isn't going well at all."

_"Because we're not working as a team,"_ Jono stated, letting his gaze pour over everyone.

Noticing Clarice a bit farther away, Ethan called to her. "Clarice? Hey, come pow-wow with us!"

She approached cautiously, keeping a close eye on all five teens before stopping a few feet away.

_ "Look, we may not like each other,"_ Jono cast Ethan a quick knowing glance, _"but we've gotta 'ave each other's back. An' work together. Clarice—"_ Jono said.

"Codenames!" Lily said.

"Blink," Clarice responded.

"Blink then. We're fightin' Magneto."

"Magneto. Throws metal things. Quite often. I get it. What I don't get is how I went from the school to this."

Michael answered, "We're in holographic simulation. Magneto isn't real. Neither are the surroundings. You dropped in the middle of our power training class. We're still inside the school."

"Interesting. So, you're learning to fight at this school?" Clarice asked.

Vincent gruffly stated, "Yeah. This is gonna be the best part of your day. The rest is boring as hell."

"Regardless," Michael sharply interjected, "we're not necessarily here to learn to fight. We've got a long story, and with Magneto lurking around out there, we don't have the time to get into it. If we're going to pass, we've got to stop Magneto like Emma said."

"Okay. I'm in. What's the plan?" Clarice asked.

_"Seems like he's tryin' ta keep us at a distance. So, we've got ta close the gap."_

"That's easy for someone like me," she said. "Point me in the right direction, and I can get us close."

_ "Vanguard, if we get you close, can you turn off his power? And yank off that bloody helmet?"_

"I can, but I have to get close, and if what you said earlier about him controlling the iron in our blood is true, I'm going to be in trouble."

_"Lightwing. You've got backup. If Ethan goes down, you're up. Be ready for anything."_

"I'll do my best."

_"Marvel, you've got the final blow."_

"Understood."

"Do we know exactly where he is?" Ethan asked.

"We will in a minute," Michael said closing his eyes. He linked everyone's minds together, so they were all seeing the same thing. "All I have to do is simply remember the direction that Magneto attacked each of us from."

"You blast a hole in a magnetic shield, you telekinetically hold back energy, and now you replay memories like a BluRay. When did you figure all this out?" Ethan quizzed.

_I wish I could answer that right now,_ Michael thought.

Sensing Michael's hesitation, Jono cut in. _"We'll deal with it later. Marvel, if you're not comfortable wit' this, you can stay here."_

"No. I'm fine. And I'm going."

_"Everyone else? Are you in or out?"_

Lily's fist shot in the air. "In!"

"Yeah, whatever." Vincent replied.

"I've got your back," Ethan said. He made eye contact with Jono, letting him know that despite what had happened, his words were sincere.

"Well, then, we'll be there in the blink of an eye," Clarice said with a wink. Without warning, she activated her teleportation abilities, concentrating on the location Michael showed them. The sound of a blink sounded through the warehouse, and the teens were gone.

In the following second, they appeared out of a darkened circle, the rim brimming with pink and lavender energy.

_Magneto,_ Jono identified the man in front of them. Through Jubilee's stories and overhearing Sean's conversations with the senior staff, Jono felt as though he had already met and fought Magneto, who had vacillated between being a friend and foe to the X-Men for many years.

This incarnation of Magneto was clearly the foe type, the one that threatened the world with the impending release of missiles. In essence, they were reenacting the X-Men's fist battle with Magneto. And it was just then that Jono fully understood the composition of the team.

Each of them had powers that likened to the original X-Men. Jono's biokinetic blasts were similar in nature to Cyclops's optic blasts. Lily glided through the air gracefully, aided by wings of light, much like Angel used his physical wings. Ethan's speed and agility were more advanced but paralleled Beast's own dexterity. Vincent controlled the fundamental element of fire, a polar opposite to Iceman, but the concept was the same. And Michael, a telekinetic, like Marvel Girl.

But this new generation of X-Men was much more powerful than the X-Men at their age. Plus, this time, they had an edge—a wildcard. Clarice. Blink. A teleporter. An almost necessary element for any successful mutant team. And with her, Jono was absolutely sure that if they played their cards right, the scale would be tipped in their favor.

Magneto's purple cape fluttered in the wind, while his entire body crackled with electromagnetic energy. His piercing blue eyes glared at the teens from the opening in his mask, which in addition only showed his sharp nose, and thin frown. His silver eyebrows where nearly hidden by the shadow of his helmet, responsible for protecting him from psychic intrusion. And that was his weak point that Jono hoped to exploit.

_"Blink. Vanguard. Now! Lightwing. Helios. Right flanked high-low attacks. Marvel. Same on left!"_ As Jono barked out orders, the teens responded, Clarice and Ethan disappearing almost instantly, while the rest launched a distracting offensive against Magneto.

"You dare stand against the Master of Magnetism! Then I shall have no mercy...even against you children!" Magneto maneuvered flat metal panels, using them as physical shields, in conjunction with an electromagnetic shield. Fireballs, light beams, biokinetic blasts, and telekinetic force blasts all collided with the shields, barely reaching Magneto.

"And we're here!" Clarice shouted playfully as she fell through a portal opened about fifty feet above Magneto. Ethan dove headfirst, resembling a skydiver, heading straight for his target, Magneto. And a few moments into his decent, he heard another blink above him, meaning Clarice had already teleported away, and he was alone.

Magneto, preoccupied with the other four teens failed to notice the surprise attack from above.

Ethan let out a grunt as he latched onto Magneto's back and grabbed his helmet in almost one smooth motion. With an almost effortless heave, Ethan tossed it into the sky, where it was instantly it dissected into hundreds of pieces, courtesy of Clarice's intervention. He hung onto a flailing Magneto's back, and with just a little focus, Ethan's dampening power kicked in.

Unable to hold himself aloft with electromagnetic repulsion, Magneto and Ethan tumbled to the unforgiving ground. Thankful for his durability, Ethan recovered much faster and managed to hop to his feet and dash to the side of his teammates, who now stood in a row behind Michael.

Magneto clambered to his feet. "You children are fools. Following Xavier's dream—there is no peace. You'll see."

"I'm taking this one day at a time. And today, you're finished," Michael peacefully stated. He focused all of the psionic energy at his disposal, creating a visible, glowing combination of telekinesis and telepathy. Releasing the energy directly from his brain, the azure psi-bolt streaked through the air and struck Magneto directly in the chest while overloading his neural system. Barely having time to cry out, Magneto pitched backwards several feet before hitting the ground, unconscious.

Tom applauded slowly as the scene melted away, and the teens approached the rest of the class, who gave smiles, nods of approval, and thumbs up.

"I had my doubts for a second. Jono, you pulled the team together nicely. And great adaptation to changing circumstances. You, young lady," Tom looked at Clarice, "those were some impressive maneuvers. Actually, all of you are powerful and held your own out there. But you couldn't win until you pulled together as a team." Turning to the rest of the class, Tom continued, "And that's the point of today's lesson. Yes, I could have started you off with fighting a C-lister, like Rico said. But you're better than that. I'm here to push you past your limits. I expect all of you to review the first five fights in the Battle Archives. You can access it from the Danger Room link on the homepage. Questions?"

"So, ya think ya woulda won if Clare hadn't shown up?" Jubilee asked Jono.

Jono thought for a moment. He looked over his team, and turned back to Jubilee. _"Without a doubt. I don't know if we woulda won wit' you on our side though, Sparky."_

"Ha, ha," she replied, her words dripping with sarcasm. "Whatever, dude. I've totally done tha real thing. Trust me, Magneto's like waaaay harder than that ol' holographic pushover."

"Okay, class dismissed," Tom said with a pleased smile.

_"You know, Mr. Lawson, that you aren't going much of anywhere until we talk."_ Emma telepathically said. Michael felt a pair of eyes on him and noticed a knowing glance from Monet.

"Yeah, I know," he said aloud toward the control booth, where Emma and Sean looked down on him, expressions unreadable.

Notes

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional


	30. Phoenix, Uninterrupted, Part 1

I.

Vanessa Wallace pulled her legs underneath her on the recliner. Normally, she would have enjoyed the plush, leather seat with a novel in her hand and a glass of lemonade on the table. Instead, she tensely pondered over Ethan Callaghan's concern for Michael Lawson, their teammate and friend.

She glanced toward Everett Thomas, Jubilation Lee, and Paige Guthrie, who all seemed just as worried, though they had only known Michael for a few weeks. It had only been about thirty minutes since their Danger Room session, and Michael, teamed with four other students, entered the holographic world to face Magneto. The rest of the student body simply watched as Tom Corsi gave them play-by-play critiques.

Honestly, things weren't going entirely well for the team, what caught everyone's attention was Michael's unusual display of powers. In an effort to save the team, Michael used his telekinesis to not only hold an extremely heavy gas tank in midair, but also managed to hold back a current of flames once the tank exploded. Vanessa was reminded instantly of their encounter with Mason Arminthorpe—another example of Michael using his telekinesis to shield them from an energy attack.

There were also smaller signs that everyone noted of Michael's powers being incredibly stronger than they remembered or doing feats that they presumed he shouldn't have been able to do. Normally, such a thing wouldn't be a problem, but Vanessa noticed the anxious interest of Ms. Frost and Mr. Cassidy. And even Tom seemed a little curious as to the extent of Michael's abilities.

She didn't really know what they thought of the situation, but Vanessa knew something had happened. Michael was different. But she wasn't sure whether that difference was good or bad. Or something else entirely.

Vanessa only meant to talk to Ethan about it one-on-one. But Everett had already beat her to it, and she simply joined the conversation to hear what they had to say. Paige and Jubilee joined moments later—Paige because she was concerned as well, and Jubilee because she was just being Jubilee.

The conversation moved from the hallway leading from the Danger Room into the living room, away from the rest of the students, who still lingered after the class. Once they sat down, Ethan again expressed his thoughts on Michael's sudden power shift, the fact he couldn't discern the cause, and the reaction from Emma and Sean.

"Have you tried to talk to him about it?" Vanessa asked, her hazel eyes locked on Ethan, as he leaned forward in concentration.

Ethan replied, "I've tried. Several times. He simply avoids the question or changes the subject. I noticed it when we first got here. And every time he uses his power, it's almost like he changes...like he's not himself. I don't understand the limits of his power, but I'm sure that some of the things he's doing are way beyond what any dual-psi can do."

Vanessa's full lips curved into a pensive frown. "Mike's never been dishonest with us. A lot has changed since the last time we saw each other. He said that he was still getting used to everything. Maybe he's just having a hard time. And his powers—well, it's not like he's hiding them."

Ethan rubbed the back of his neck, the stress of the day finally getting to him. He felt tightened muscles under his gentle massage and hoped that he would rest easy tonight. "I know. I guess everything's finally getting to me too. I'm worried about him and all of us. And Dr. Cain. We haven't heard a peep from the Arminthorpe Corporation. There's no telling where Cain is now. Or Graylon Walsh."

He avoided mentioning Paige and Jono as another one of his stressors. Mostly because Paige sat across the room, not directly in his line of sight but off to the side, so he could catch a glance at her every so often without appearing to be purposefully looking at her. Though he had momentarily put aside his animosity for Jono during the Danger Room training session, the feeling still lingered, only souring Ethan's mood even more.

Jubilee scrunched her face in a disapproving manner. "The like icky reporter? Ew! Like we're totally much better without. Fer sure." She wasn't the type to hide her true feelings about anything, being constantly credited as one of the most outspoken of the group, whether it was appropriate or not. Her disdain for Graylon stemmed from his incessant, arguably obsessive reporting on Xavier's, always casting the school and its students in the worst possible light.

Vanessa understood Ethan's concerns and Jubilee's ire. But she shared neither sentiment, positive that they would figure it all out. To Ethan, she said, "I don't know. Even though he left upset, Graylon helped out a lot when we went to the Arminthorpe Corporation building. And he gave us information on Mina Laroché. I think he wants to help, but with Dr. Cain being his uncle, he's worried."

Though Graylon came off rough, Vanessa remembered initially meeting him in Snow Valley, while they were relaxing in the park. If anything, Graylon reminded her of Vincent—a rough exterior but genuine and caring deep down. She figured that they both had difficulties expressing themselves, so they put up a hard exterior for protection. And chances were, their backgrounds and outside influences only managed to solidify their shell rather than soften it.

Almost immediately, Vanessa related the situation to Yvette, suddenly understanding the girl's mutation a bit better. In talking to Paige, it had been theorized that she manifested her negative emotions—such as fear, stress, and worry—as an external shell. In essence, she was protecting herself from the outside world and keeping anyone from getting in. Yvette could physically accomplish what Graylon and Vincent could only portray through interactions and reactions.

Everett concluded, "And it's only a matter of time before he crosses our path again." His foreshadowing brought Vanessa out of her thoughts, and she wholeheartedly agreed with Everett. Graylon had determination, and though he acted like a lone wolf, deep down, Vanessa was sure Graylon knew he couldn't save Cain alone. And he would definitely be at their doorstep when he was ready to make his next move.

"Besides everything that Ethan mentioned," Everett added, his brown eyes scanning his teammates, "I'm concerned about Monet and Clarice. Monet's acting kind of...off. She's been distant and very short tempered. More so than I've ever seen. And Clarice can't remember anything before her kidnapping or before she appeared here last night."

Jubilee rolled her eyes. "Well, like, Monet's just Monet, ya know? She's always being Miz Drama Queen or somethin'. If there was like somethin' totally wrong, why wouldn't she tell us? I mean, I totally don't like her that much, but I figure she'd let us know what's up. Right?"

"You would think," Everett pensively responded. "Especially after all this time. But she's still got a wall up. There are still things about her we don't know."

"An her ol' stupid brother's like out there too!"

"Monet has a brother?" Vanessa asked on the tail-end of Jubilee's statement. She tried to imagine a male version of Monet. Tall, dark, and handsome were the first things that came to her mind. Internally amused, she smiled in spite of herself as her mind morphed her generic picture of Monet's brother into Michael Lawson.

Though she wouldn't really openly admit it, she knew he had a crush on her. And Vanessa's feelings for him grew fonder by the day. But just like Monet, there were things that they didn't know about him. And for the first time, Vanessa wondered if his secrets were something that would ultimately tear them apart.

Everett really didn't want to get into the details of Monet's brother, Emplate. Things were complicated enough without revealing that the brother of one of their teammates was also their worst enemy. Instead, Everett shifted the conversation, "If we're concerned about Monet, maybe we should just talk to her together. She can't ignore all of us, right?"

"Yeah, you're right," Vanessa responded, catching the evasion of her question. She made a mental note of it, rather than making a big deal of it right now. There was a lot going on, and Monet's brother was probably a minor topic of discussion, better left for a less stressful time. But still, she realized that they all still had a lot to learn about each other.

With a sly smile and a glance toward Paige and Ethan, Jubilee added, "Like, I'mma go ahead an' like talk about the elephant in tha room. What is up wit' tha like drama with you two an' Jono?"

Reddening, Paige shot her a quieting glance, "That's just Jono bein' childish. And it's not really somethin' to talk about right now." Her Kentucky accent usually surfaced when she was upset, and right now, much to her annoyance, a Southern twang hung on every word.

Paige shifted in her seat and resisted a fleeting look in Ethan's direction to avoid feeling even more awkward. She wished Jubilee hadn't brought it up so casually, in front of everyone, including Ethan. But obviously, it was going to be a topic of discussion, especially after Ethan and Jono had their exchange during the training session.

Catching Paige's cue to change the topic again, Everett cleared his throat, catching everyone's attention. "I think Monet went to her room. You guys want to go talk to her?"

After everyone nodded and started moving toward the stairs, Everett hoped that they would resolve at least one of the issues before day's end. However, unbeknownst to Everett and the others, something terrible had already begun, and before they realized what was happening, they would be blindsided in the worst way possible.

II.

Emma Frost wasn't pleased in the slightest.

The thing that she feared most had come true—there was another Phoenix in their midst. Possibly. The last time Emma had seen the creature, it rendered her comatose for months. And of course, she still harbored a slight bit of animosity because of it. And now, she gazed into the emerald eyes of woman responsible for the Phoenix's existence on this planet, Jean Grey-Summers.

"So, please," Emma began, narrowing her blue eyes, "explain to me how I'm staring at the supposed Phoenix, while one of my students is displaying characteristics that look strangely similar. And I hope you have a decent explanation that doesn't involve cloning, time travel, or alternate dimensions. They tend to go hand in hand with you, Jean."

Jean disregarded Emma's jab reluctantly, pushing her returning dislike for the woman aside. Deep in her heart, she still held Emma responsible for her role in the Dark Phoenix's existence. And Jean couldn't forget that Emma's teachings and haughty disposition led to the senseless death of her students, the Hellions. And Jean's own near-death. If the Hellions hadn't been brainwashed to be mortal enemies of anyone from Xavier's, they could have all teamed up against Trevor Fitzroy and averted anyone's demise.

Jean returned from her memories soured but focused on the situation at hand—one of her students from class, Michael Lawson, apparently displayed power levels off the charts, coupled with an aura of rippling blue fire. He managed to use his telekinesis to hold back a raging fire, something most telekinetics simply couldn't do. Affecting physical matter was the basis of telekinesis, but being able to physically affect energy, an intangible form, was astounding. And this wasn't the first display of his developing powers.

Jean reviewed the reports on Generation X's first interaction with Michael, when he almost effortlessly blocked Jono's biokinetic blast. Then against Arminthorpe, he again used his telekinesis at a much more powerful level, blocking a powerful energy attack from Mason Arminthorpe himself. Not to mention his run-in with Emma, where he easily overpowered her with a psi-blast, an attack reserved for the most powerful telepaths. And just this afternoon, Michael admitted that he was concerned about his increasing power and that he kept hearing a voice.

She couldn't help but to think there was some relation to the Phoenix, though Jean didn't _feel_ a connection as of yet. Jean could have easily read his mind earlier but decided against it, hoping that Michael reveal his concerns at his own pace and of his own volition. And he had, but now, the reality of the situation had been exposed, and Michael had questions to answer. And Jean was sure that Emma would press him, whether he liked it or not.

So, Jean approached Hank, who luckily remained on campus after class along with Forge. All three reviewed the Danger Room report, and Hank used Cerebra to access the data files on the Phoenix Force. After an unsettling conversation with Lilandra, they discovered the possibility that Michael had stumbled upon something much more powerful and dangerous than they realized. Forge told them that he would continue research while Hank and Jean tended to Michael personally.

Jean explained to Emma and Sean. "After centuries of battles and human hosts, the Phoenix itself became fragmented—fractions of its being scattered throughout the universe."

Hank added, "After a preliminary analysis of data we obtained from previous encounters, coupled with information from the Shi'ar, we found that these fractions cannot sustain themselves as an autonomous entity, so they simply lie dormant or continue to wander, preserving as much energy as possible for its own survival."

Emma concluded, "Until it finds a suitable human host."

"Precisely," Hank answered.

Jean continued, ignoring Emma's disapproving glare. "A Phoenix fragment would augment an individual's abilities in the same way the Phoenix has in the past, since these fragments, just like the Phoenix, tend to gravitate to individuals with psionic abilities. However, the fragments are nowhere near as strong as the Phoenix in its entirety."

Sean spoke up. "But a Phoenix fragment given t' someone already powerful could be a wee bit dangerous, eh? The lad is already an Alpha-level mutant, along with Everett, Jono, an' Monet. Can we stop th' lad from acceptin' the Phoenix? In m' eyes, there's no tellin' th' outcome if he joins with th' Phoenix," Sean presented.

Emma answered, "I don't know whether it's too late or not. I could feel the presence of something else lurking there on the cusp of his consciousness, but before I could figure out anything, Michael's psi-defenses took over. If anything, we've discovered the Phoenix fragment while it's trying to merge with him."

"That would explain th' lad's somewhat inconsistent power surges."

Hank shook his head. "I retrieved the data from the Danger Room evaluation, as well as recorded data from previous sessions. His powers are indeed fluctuating, but there's nothing to indicate another internal source of power. If anything, the power that Michael is wielding is his own."

Jean said, "But he's been hearing another voice inside of his head, meaning that there may be another consciousness residing somewhere deep within his mind. After discussing it with Hank, we're sure that when joining with a human host, the Phoenix fragment's consciousness simply dissipates or simply melds with the host's. But we're witnessing something quite different here, if my theory is correct."

Emma retaliated, "So in other words, we still have to worry about murderous rampages through the universe. Or cosmic-level tantrums. Or this whole dead-alive thing that keeps happening with you."

"Emma…" Sean said with a hint of warning in his voice.

Jean laughed off Emma's sharp comment. "No, you shouldn't have to worry about that. As long as ex-Hellfire Club flunkies or scantily clad, whorish queens keep their distance, I think he'll be safe." Jean's emerald eyes flared, and for a moment, the two women were locked in a tense stare.

Sean stifled a laugh as Hank hopelessly shook his head.

"Whatever, Jean. My students' safety is paramount. If that boy is a danger—"

Sean interjected. "Ah dinnae think the lad's any more dangerous than any other mutant. He's learnin' t' use his powers 'n th' right way. I cannae figure out why th' Phoenix chose th' lad, but it had t' be fer a good reason, eh, Jean?"

"I hope so, Sean. For Michael's sake. The Phoenix and even its fragments choose its hosts, and once that happens, there's no undoing it."

Emma gave a disapproving snort. "Can't you just talk to it and make it take all these pieces of itself back?"

Resisting an eye roll, Jean breathed deeply, calming herself before answering. "My relationship with the Phoenix is—" she searched for the right word, "—complicated. When the time comes, any fragments still remaining will be absorbed. But like Hank said, this is different. But I have to see Michael first to be absolutely sure."

Emma focused her gaze beyond her closed office door. Telepathically speaking, she said, _"I know you've been mentally eavesdropping. You may as well join the party."_

The office door opened slowly and controlled, courtesy of Michael's telekinesis. He stood on the opposite of the hallway, still in his training uniform, regarding everyone with contempt. He felt a little embarrassed for being caught mentally eavesdropping, but he absolutely hated being talked about when he wasn't there to explain or defend himself.

His brown eyes scanned the room, momentarily resting on each of its occupants and their expressions. On the far left was Jean Grey-Summers, standing relaxed with a pleasant and warm smile. On the other hand, Emma pensively eyed him with a hint of mistrust and something else that Michael could swear was fear. Sean casually leaned against a bookcase and gave Michael a welcoming wave. And lastly, Hank sat in a sturdy chair, peering at Michael over gold-rimmed spectacles with a beastly grin, more inviting and friendly than menacing and frightening.

Though he shouldn't have been, Michael felt uneasy. This wasn't anything he was quite ready to deal with on his own, let alone with four near-strangers. He trusted them, but only to a far lesser degree than he openly admitted. There was still so much he didn't know about them—and himself. Naturally, Michael stood in a defensive posture, an uncharacteristic frown darkening his expression.

Emma placed her hands on her desk, her lips a thin, tense line. "I think you know everyone here, so I'll get straight to the point—"

Sean placed a gentle hand on Emma's shoulder, cutting her off. Noticing Michael's intensifying anger, he suggested, "Ach. Ah'd maybe recommend lettin' Jean handle this one, lass."

Emma began to argue but stopped herself. She knew Sean was right. There was no way Michael would trust her—not after their confrontation the previous night. Though she hated handing the reins over to Jean, at the end of the day, Michael's well-being meant much more to her than whatever animosity Emma held towards Jean.

Catching Jean's glance towards Emma for approval, she almost unnoticeably nodded, urging Jean to press forward. "You seem to have an affinity with the boy. Be my guest," Emma said aloud just for Sean's sake.

Taking the lead, Jean took a small step forward and gave Michael the same warming smile that greeted him in the classroom. "Michael, you already know why you're here. We're concerned about you. We think that something's reached out and touched you. And if that's true, we want to ensure your safety."

Michael crossed his arms defensively. "I'm not in danger, and I'm not going to get hurt. I'm dealing with this just fine. I'm going to save Dr. Cain and keep my friends safe. I'm finally strong enough to do that."

Emma interjected. "No, you're not strong enough. Don't confuse power with strength. You're powerful, and as you train, you're going to unlock more power. True strength comes when you can handle that power without destroying others or yourself."

Emma's response surprised Jean, and for a moment, she wasn't sure that Emma had actually said it. This was a woman that manipulated people to get what she wanted, disregarding and destroying anyone that got in her way. But in that singular moment, Jean caught a glint of something different deep within Emma, probably the same thing that Charles had already seen, which is why he instated Emma as the headmistress. Though Jean couldn't exactly move past the image of the White Queen, she realized that Emma herself was something more.

Jean continued, "Let me tell you a story about a girl. She was powerful in her own right and used that power to save her friends. But she did so at the cost of her own life and almost lost her friends in the process. In a desperate moment, she accepted a deal, which gave her access to far more power than she was capable of handling. She saved her friends, but this overwhelming power ultimately corrupted and consumed her, resulting in her death. Luckily, all wasn't lost, and she was given a second chance. Through maturing and training, she accepted the power once again, vowing to control it and not let it control her."

Michael's expression softened as he listened to the story, his own telepathy picking up Jean's projection. Though she spoke in general terms, Michael caught flashbacks that correlated with the story, showing the girl as no one but Jean herself. The story was short, but in those few moments, Jean managed to take him through her struggles, her doubt, her triumph, her sacrifice, her rebirth, and her ongoing challenge.

He wondered about his own path, which had been riddled with its own challenges, and wondered if in the end, he would come out better for it. Or if ultimately, he would be the cause of his own demise. Or worse, the demise of his friends.

Sobered and calmed, Michael responded quietly, "She was brave. To risk herself like that."

"She may have been brave. And she may have been powerful, but she wasn't strong enough. And she was also scared out of her mind. Heck, I think she still is."

Michael locked on Jean, again seeing something deep and almost dangerous in the woman's emerald eyes. "When I talked to you earlier, you already knew what was happening, didn't you? You—you know what this voice is, don't you?"

Avoiding answering the question directly, Jean responded, "We're not exactly sure. But that's what we're going to find out. Mike, we're going to try something, okay?"

Michael nodded gently, his stomach knotting in anticipation. For the past several weeks, the voice had spoke to Michael at random times—sometimes giving a warning; other times, providing Michael with a second wind to reengage his enemies. But the origin of the voice continued to elude him. Until now. Potentially.

Though only meeting Jean a few hours prior, he had an immense amount of respect for her. It wasn't just because they shared a similar power set, but there was something that Michael could feel that linked them together. And Michael somehow instinctively knew the voice was the cause.

III.

"Monet, didn't you hear us?"

Monet St. Croix blinked as if she had just been snapped out of a dream. And for a moment, she wasn't sure what had happened. Still sitting at her desk, Monet glanced from her computer screen with an unfinished e-mail to her four classmates entering her room: Everett Thomas, Vanessa Wallace, Jubilation Lee, Ethan Callaghan, and Paige Guthrie. They chatted quietly about something Monet couldn't quite catch, while Everett hovered over her.

Everett, who had asked her the question earlier, softened his voice, "We didn't mean to barge in. We just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Everett," Monet started, but she caught herself before she said more. She couldn't possibly be having blackout spells, but Monet couldn't remember anything from the past thirty minutes or so. And she was totally oblivious to any outside stimuli. But what caused it? Why was it happening now? She stood quickly and crossed the room, throwing open the French doors to her balcony.

A crisp breeze fluttered the curtains and swayed the girls' hair, carrying a faint hint of pine trees and wild flowers. The setting sun's rays quickly flooded the room, and Monet let her own uneasiness melt away.

Turning from the balcony, Monet asked, "Is there a particular reason why you all felt the need to congregate in my room or was there actually some purpose to your visit?"

Completely put off, Jubilee threw her hands on her hips and narrowed her dark brown eyes angrily. "Like look here, M! We' jus' tryin' ta see what's up with yer like bitchy attitude." Her face resolute, Jubilee's earrings and hair swung in time with her attitude-inspired neck and head maneuvers, punctuating her impatience and anger with Monet.

"Jubes," Everett warned, hoping to avoid an argument between the two. But no matter how he tried, Monet and Jubilee always managed to bicker back and forth, Jubilee usually losing her patience. And that only made Monet that much more smug and condescending. It was a downward spiral that Everett hoped to circumvent. At least for now.

Jubilee crossed her arms in defiance. "What? I'm jus' sayin' like what everyone else is totally thinkin'. And yer gonna like say _my_ name like it means shut up. Whatev."

"If you only came in here to—" Monet snapped.

"No, that's not it," Paige cut in, averting a disastrous confrontation with Monet. Keeping her tone light but firm, Paige continued, "Jubilee is right...to an extent. You've been acting downright mean lately. I saw it in Bobby's class. And other people have seen it too."

Vanessa added, "Even Mike is worried. He wanted to talk to you too, but he had to see Emma after class."

Monet glanced away almost as if she didn't want to be bothered. "My circumstance is nothing for any of you to be concerned about."

Infuriated, Jubilee's fists clenched at her sides. "Okay. Don't cha get it? We're yer teammates. Kind of like family, ya know? We're gonna worry when ya start actin' weird. Like more weird than normal. I know we totally don't get along, but we understand each other. Right now, I don't understand ya."

Monet crossed her arms. "It doesn't matter whether you understand me or not. Now, if there is something you can help with, I will gladly inform you. Until then, your presence is not wanted or desired."

Stunned, Everett stepped forward. "Look, Monet if there's something—"

"You said your piece. All of you did. And I've said mine. I bid you goodnight."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room, and for a moment, everyone stood unmoving, holding their breath, waiting for someone to lash out at Monet. Jubilee took a step forward and opened her mouth to say something, but a soft touch from Everett on her arm stopped her.

"We'll go. But if you need someone to talk to, we're here." Everett motioned to the others, and thought they were al concerned, they reluctantly followed him, closing her door behind her.

_They can't help. Not with this._

Monet wished that there were some other way, but to keep them safe, she had to make them hate her. So when she launched her plan, Monet wouldn't have to worry about anyone following her. Maybe they would eventually understand, but right now, Monet was just fine with everyone despising her.

Notes

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional


	31. Phoenix, Uninterrupted, Part 2

I.

Michael Lawson opened his eyes and saw nothing but darkness. He blinked a few times, and when the darkness remained and only seemed to grow thicker, panic began to rise. Michael sucked in a breath and held it, forcing himself to calm down. Not only was he floating in a sea of black, but he couldn't tell which way was up. And when he moved his limbs, they felt much lighter than they should have, only heightening his concern.

"Are you okay?"

At first, Michael thought that the mysterious voice had swept him away again to deliver some more cryptic messages. But then it clicked—that voice belonged to Jean Grey-Summers, but where was she? Michael turned his head sharply to the right and found Jean standing next to him. But instead of the casual outfit she wore earlier, Jean wore a fitting blue and gold outfit, a part of the uniform framing her face. Her red hair stirred languidly behind her as she held herself aloft with her telekinesis.

Thankful for the presence of another person, Michael oriented himself to Jean, using his own telekinesis to turn his body upright. He suddenly found that the both of them were giving off a strange, ethereal glow, emanating from somewhere within their bodies. Michael could now see himself, still clothed in his training uniform.

"Yeah, I'm good," Michael replied, still hesitant. He blinked hard, then remembered—Jean told him to close his eyes. Then suddenly, he was _here—here_ being the astral plane as Jean briefed as Michael kept his eyes closed, and his mind slipped away from his body.

"So," he said, not hiding his disappointment, "this is the astral plane. Not like what I thought at all." In the moments between closing his eyes and appearing in the Astral Plane, Michael imagined a strange world, reminiscent of the Land of Oz or Wonderland, a colorful place filled with curious mystery and impossible physics. Instead, there was nothing but Jean and him, floating in the middle of even more nothing.

At the same time, Michael realized that this was the same place that the voice brought him when it spoke to him. And if that was the case, that meant they could be close to it. Very close.

Jean responded, "I'm maintaining a mental blank slate for us until you get used to it. The Astral Plane can be dangerous for an untrained mind. Remember, in this environment, what you think is reality. With everything that's happened, I didn't want to risk overwhelming you."

"Okay," he said, understanding Jean's logic. Though the absence of anything familiar or visible was overwhelming in itself. He glanced around again, and jokingly commented, "I didn't think I'd be here until lesson thirteen."

"Think of this as a prep lesson. Now, we're going to change the setting just a little."

Michael, after noticing Jean's eyes focus on something behind him, spun around and faced a door. Made of dark wood, with a brass knob, the door floated in the middle of the air, unaided by anything visible. There were no walls around it, and that made Michael a bit nervous. He was tempted to try to peer around the door, but he hesitated, fearing that it was a mystery that wasn't supposed to be solved.

Instead, Michael stared at the door and noticed its uncanny resemblance to the doors within his childhood home. "What's this door? And where did it come from?"

"Well, we're looking for the voice you've been hearing. To do that, we have to go into your mind. What you have to remember is that in a place like this, things are represented in a metaphysical sense, sometimes being a more literal interpretation."

"A door to my mind," Michael clarified more for himself than Jean. "So, this is how we're going to get into my head?"

Jean nodded as she advanced toward the door. "Yes. Again, remember that everything is taking on some kind of form for you and me to better process within the astral plane. Michael, I just want to make sure that you're ready for this. And that above all else, you remain in control." She reached for the knob and paused, awaiting a response.

A slight shiver traveled up Michael's spine. He didn't want Jean to know his fear, yet, Michael figured that there was no hiding it from her. "I don't know that I'm ready," he began, "But this is something I have to do. If there's something dangerous lurking inside of me, I want to at least know it for myself. Let's go."

II.

Rico Vidal leaned back in the leather chair with an exasperated sigh, as he ran his fingers through his black and grey hair. As his breath left his lungs, he made a conscious effort to let the tension out of his shoulders and relax his neck. Over the past three hours, he poured over every piece of information Cerebra managed to compile based on various searched Rico initiated.

Surprisingly, there wasn't much information on Arminthorpe, despite their seemingly heavy-handedness in the business arena. Rico found that they were the most respected within the realm of genetic studies and had garnered several awards for breakthrough research. But there was nothing that even remotely connected them to any other companies, let alone anything that indicated the Arminthorpe Corporation was anything but a benevolent contributor to biological endeavors.

Still, after their investigation of the Corporation went sour, and they were confronted by dangerous teens, it was obvious that Mason Arminthorpe was hiding something. And from the ferocity by which the teens and Arminthorpe fought, it was obvious that they were willing to go to great lengths to harbor that secret. But what bothered Rico most is that having been subjects at the Corporation, it was clear that they were somehow connected to Arminthorpe's master plan. But the extent of their involvement still eluded them.

"Maybe you should take a break, Rico," Kiana Asahara suggested as she, followed by Vincent Sellenger, entered the computer room. Passing him an ice cold Sprite, Rico's favorite soda, she took a seat an identical leather chair a few feet away from Rico. Vincent chose to prop himself up against the wall, crossing his arms.

Rico took a sip of the Sprite, wincing from the momentary carbonated, acidic burn in his throat. He smiled, enjoying the lingering tingle, then turned to Kiana. "Yeah, maybe I should. But it's been a few weeks, and we still aren't any closer to finding Dr. Cain than when we first got here."

Rico and Paige took turns on cracking the information acquired from Dr. Cain's computer, downloaded onto what Paige affectionately named the X-Drive. In addition, they both tried their hand at piecing together the information Rico downloaded while they were in the Arminthorpe Corporation headquarters. Once removing the encryption Cerebra coded, they had to break through the multitude of encryption layers. They weren't sure how many there were, but using Cerebra, they managed to hack through twenty-six layers but still couldn't access the data.

In the meantime, Rico searched any public information he could find on Arminthorpe. So far, nothing of real significance surfaced, much to his dismay.

Kiana said, "I know. It worries me that the Corporation has been extremely inactive. But, it's probably a strategic move on their part—after our adventure in their headquarters, they're probably waiting for us to make the next move."

"So it's just a big waiting game," Rico deduced. "Dammit! There's gotta be something we can do!"

Vincent, his natural frown growing deeper, said, "Yeah. Kick in the door and burn that damn place to the ground until we find Dr. Cain." His hands instinctively clenched at his sides, and though he didn't mean to, the temperature in the room elevated a degree, barely felt by Kiana and Rico.

Kiana faced Vincent with a look of disapproval. "We tried the direct approach, and we almost failed. Fortunately, we weren't hurt badly. But the team of mutants that Arminthorpe has at his control has no reservations about hurting us. And they're probably not above killing us. Same with Mina Laroché. We'll have to be quite a bit more discreet the next time. But even if, we may find ourselves in a battle with the enemies we faced before. And we have to be ready."

Rico added, "Yeah. Plainly put, we got our asses kicked. And if not for Paige teleporting us out, there's no telling what would've happened. Fortunately for us, she recorded and catalogued the kids that attacked us. At least we'll have a better idea of what they're capable of—their strengths and weaknesses."

"And they probably have done the same to us," Kiana added.

A flashing banner across the upper left screen caught Rico's eye, and when he glanced toward the monitor, he recognized Graylon Walsh almost immediately. "Cerebra, set volume twenty-seven on monitor one."

"_This is Graylon Walsh reporting. This is the third report of a missing person within the past twenty-four hours here in Snow Valley. Initially attributed to a runaway fad, parents are now concerned that their sons and daughters may have been taken against their will. Though the evidence is not conclusive, the Snow Valley Police Department is treating them as missing persons cases. Chief Dan Authier issued a statement this morning."_

The screen cut to a somber Dan Authier. His brows furrowed and frowning, Dan glanced at his notes then looked out directly towards the audience and camera.

_ "To all residents of Snow Valley, the Police Department continues to work overtime to secure the safe return of the missing teens. As such, please adhere to the curfew. Refrain from vigilante tactics and personal search parties, as this will only hinder the investigation and possibly endanger the missing teens. If anyone has any information in relation to the missing persons, please contact the S.V.P.D."_

"Cerebra, mute," Rico commanded, and the room fell eerily silent. He only paused for a moment before he said to the others, "Three disappearances within the past twenty-four hours. Weird. You guys don't think Arminthorpe is behind it, do you?"

Kiana answered, "It's not their style. If Graylon hadn't been keeping tabs on Dr. Cain, we wouldn't have even known he was taken. They're a little less obvious. Whatever's going on probably isn't related, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't be concerned. Maybe we can talk to Chief Authier and see if we can help."

"Yeah, you're right. When Michael gets out of detention with Emma, we can ask him," Rico humorously responded. "Meanwhile, Cerebra, access files on missing persons," he commanded. In a matter of seconds, three monitors flashed the respective information for the three victims. Glancing over the information quickly, Rico once again leaned back, but this time, he was in deep contemplation. "Hmmm...Jason Tate, Tyler Sullivan, and Craig Taylor."

"What is it?" Kiana asked.

"The last guy there...that's Riptide, one of the Corporation's goons that attacked Ethan and his team. Cerebra, cross-catalogue missing persons with mutant database." It took only a fraction of a second for three monitors to change the information, and three dossiers appeared on the respective males. "It's just like I thought. All three of them are mutants. Jason's a terrakinetic. Tyson can control lightning. And Craig controls water."

Kiana frowned. "I don't think it's a coincidence. These three each have an elemental power. Basically, any power that occurs within nature. I don't want to misread the situation, but we have to presume that whoever is kidnapping these people knows what they're doing. And I wouldn't be surprised if there weren't some kind of magic involved."

Of everyone there, Kiana rightfully presumed that she was the most knowledgeable regarding magic and the like. Unlike the others, Kiana didn't really consider herself a mutant in the traditional since, because of the fact that her magic-casting ability powers were inherited from her father only after he passed away unexpectedly. In addition to limited offensive and defensive magic, Kiana also brandished the Matsumura Sword, a physical weapon summoned at will.

So, it was almost instinctive for Kiana to view everything from a mystical perspective first. Noting the common elemental qualities the victims possessed, Kiana immediately thought of the forbidden spells, incantations deemed heretic with either destructive outcomes or detrimental results for the victims of the casting. Most of these spells involved a high level of magic ability, coupled with extensive knowledge.

In this case, the apparent herding of elemental mutants led Kiana to believe that someone planned on doing something dangerous. And if they didn't figure it out, there was no telling what would happen.

"Magic?" Vincent repeated disbelievingly. Though having known Kiana for several years, he didn't exactly buy into the mystical perspective Kiana shared. It was his lack of understanding that made him a disbeliever, and he made no attempt to change it. "The Corporation's been chasing our asses nonstop. Why the hell would they suddenly decide to get sneaky and magical on us?"

Kiana simply replied, "Maybe it's not the Corporation."

The realism that someone else could be plotting something heinous brought about an uneasy silence, leaving the three teens lost in their own thoughts. Who was it? What were their intentions? How much longer did they have?

Rico sighed deeply, racking his brain to figure out how to turn Kiana's wild suggestion into a feasible hypothesis. "You think it's Mina Laroché? She does the whole magic thing like you do."

Kiana answered, "This isn't exactly her style either."

"Well, I don't think her style is Dolce and Gabbana, but that's besides the point," Rico flatly joked. "So, we're looking at mutants with natural elements being kidnapped, right? But fire's missing. And so is wind. Those would be the last two, right?"

Kiana shook her head, correcting Rico. "Depending on your school of thought, there could be more. Void, sky, or heaven according to Godai. Some would argue that the Greek considered gravity as an element. The Chinese have adopted metal as an element along with the other four traditional ones."

Rico gave a funny expression. "So, we've got earth, fire, wind, and water. Okay, this is gonna sound real dumb, but what about heart, like on Captain Planet?"

Vincent folded his arms and glared at Rico. "You're right. That's dumb as hell."

Kiana shook her head. "It may sound dumb, but you may have a point. But I wouldn't necessary classify it as heart. Think about it—what controls the heart?"

Rico snapped his fingers as his face lit up. "The mind. So, if we take these random other elements into consideration and assume the kidnappers victims will continue to be in Snow Valley, then the closest potential victims are me, Vinnie here, and Mikey?"

"If we exclude metal _and_ consider lightning as a natural element _and_ if our theory is correct, yes." Kiana answered. "Maybe. You guys may be the closest ones that have the remaining elements needed."

The room fell into another pensive silence. Before Kiana could make another observation, she felt the vibration of her cell phone. Slipping it out of her dark blue jeans' pocket, Kiana briefly glanced at the screen before her face went ashen.

Noticing her reaction, Rico asked, "What's wrong? Who is it?"

"It's my mother. I completely forgot to call her back after a week." Kiana didn't let her cell phone buzz for a third time. "Hello?"

"Kiana."

Though Kiana already know it was her mother, hearing her voice made Kiana's heart jump a little. "Oh, mother! What a surprise! I didn't expect you to call. And I'm sorry I didn't call sooner. School has been very busy. And we're all getting settled in. Classes started and it seems like they will be challenging." She abruptly stopped after realizing her words came out rushed and taking a breath had become a forgotten task.

Natsuko chucked softly. "I understand. I remember my own school days, so busy with classes and extracurricular activities. Which reminds me, have you and your friends made any progress in finding Dr. Cain?"

Kiana groaned internally. From the beginning, her mother didn't necessarily agree with Kiana suddenly departing with strangers to attend a school, which was a guise for an institution for mutants to learn the effective utilization of their powers, while living in a controlled, safe environment. Kiana felt that her mother was being overprotective, a fallout from her father's death seven years ago. Natsuko felt Kiana was unmindful of personal danger and elected to put herself in grave peril.

So, she knew that her mother's question was laced with an underlying tone of pressure to return home. The complete opposite of Kiana's intentions.

"Not yet," she answered, choosing her words carefully. "But the good thing is that we've been extremely safe here at the school. The security here is amazing. And the classes here are much harder than school in Baltimore."

There was an uncomfortably long pause. Kiana felt Vincent and Rico watching her carefully, both of them reading her body movements to guess how her conversation was progressing. Her nervous shifting of her weight only deepened their concerned expressions.

Before her mother could say another word, Kiana said, "Mother, don't ask me to leave. That's why you called, isn't it? This is something that I have to see through to the end no matter how long it takes. My friends are in trouble, and if I don't use this power to save them, what good is it?"

Natsuko let a few seconds pass before replying. "The older you become, the more like your father you are. He would have said the exact same thing. But neither one of you fully understand that I don't want to lose anymore of my family. He's gone—taken by...I don't even want to talk about it. And now, the Corporation and whatever other malevolent mutants are placing you and your friends in danger."

Kiana held onto her mother's words, hoping that she would shed some light on her father's mysterious death. Natsuko never talked about it, and a few years ago, Kiana simply learned not to ask after her mother constantly avoided the topic. But knowing nothing else would be revealed, Kiana stood her ground.

"I know the danger. And so do they. And we're accepting the risk. Mother, I can't live my life with this power without being in some kind of danger. Father couldn't do it either. I don't want to get hurt or something worse, but I won't standby while someone needs help."

Natsuko's voice was calm and soft, yet carried an edge of distress that Kiana couldn't ignore. "Do you realize what you're asking me? I'm supposed to simply allow you to place yourself in harm's way? What mother would agree to that, Kiana?"

"A mother who trusted that her daughter was raised to be careful. To make wise decisions. To make her parents proud. To help others in need. You and father raised me, and I'm grateful for that. Now, I have to step forward and make a difference in this world. And this is where I have to start. Please, just have faith in me and all of my friends."

The phone became so quiet that Kiana thought she had lost her signal. But after checking the phone, she knew her mother was simply contemplating Kiana's words carefully. But the silence only worried Kiana, as it usually meant her mother was still in disagreement.

"Kiana, I sometimes forget that you are a young woman, capable and smart. I know that the path you have chosen is dangerous, but I will not stand in your way. I only ask that Sean Cassidy and Emma Frost provide you with the means needed to guarantee your safety. And I will always be here. No matter what happens. I'm scared for you. But I know that your father is smiling down on you. Continue to make him proud. Continue to make us proud."

Surprised, Kiana momentarily found herself unable to speak. Her mother, though amicable, wasn't one for passing out compliments, so to hear her mother speak this way was nothing short of unexpected.

"Never forget that I love you," Natsuko ended.

Emotion swelled within Kiana, and for the first time in a long time, she felt the hot sting of tears at the corners of her eyes. Blinking them away, Kiana gently replied, "I love you too, mother."

Kiana ended the call, filled with a plethora of positive emotions. It was hard for her to pinpoint any single feeling, but Kiana found herself melding them all together into an unwavering resolve to not only to discover the cause behind the kidnappings and save Dr. Cain, but also discover the true circumstances behind her father's death.

And fortunately, she had friends around her that would help her do just that.

"That sounded like it went well," Rico said with a huge grin.

Kiana smiled as she continued to look at her phone, her mother's words still resounding in her mind. "Yes, it did. Thankfully," she answered then slipped her phone back into her pocket. Returning back to the situation at hand, Kiana said, "Maybe we should inform Sean and Emma tonight."

Rico rubbed his chin. "Before we go to them, lemme try to dig up some more info. You remember that Ms. Frost didn't exactly want us doing the superhero thing. And jumping in the middle of this would definitely fall into that."

Vincent said, "Kiana's right. We've got power, so why can't we use it? If there's someone out there taking people, then we should stop them, right?"

Kiana nodded to placate Vincent, but clearly understood Rico's point. With the Arminthorpe Corporation seemingly quiet, they were really just teenagers attending a school that happened to specialize in mutant powers. They weren't the X-Men. They weren't some junior offshoot. Quite frankly, they were just normal—something most of them hadn't been for quite sometime.

Yet, Kiana surmised that Emma and Sean knew that at some point, the teens' powers would have to be utilized, both defensively and offensively. And that eventually, they would have to put themselves in harm's way for the sake of someone else. And for all intents and purposes, Kiana knew that time was only a hair away.

III.

Only moments ago, Michael Lawson, accompanied by X-Man and teacher Jean Grey-Summers, telepathically ventured into the Astral Plane, and subsequently entered Michael's mind, in an effort to discover the mystery behind the strange voice plaguing him. Though not menacing in nature, its unpredictable timeliness and cryptic messages made Michael uneasy to say the least. And Michael was sure that the voice had something to do with his recent power fluctuations.

Michael recalled vividly being able to telekinetically affect energy, from blocking Jono's biokinetic blasts to repelling Mason Arminthorpe's mysterious energy bombardment. Though inconsistent, he knew that his powers were much more than he imagined. And just as his powers morphed into something more, the voice started talking to him, hinting at something more to his powers than normal maturation.

After a flashy display of power in the Danger Room, the situation became a point of concern for the faculty, Emma Frost and Sean Cassidy, though Michael revealed his concerns to Jean earlier in the day. Now, with Jean's guidance, they set out to find the origin of the voice and hopefully, figure out more about his powers.

But for all his bravado, Michael couldn't shake his own foreboding. In the back of his mind, Michael just knew there was something he wasn't supposed to know. And now, as they stood in a replica of his bedroom from his younger years, he wondered whether he was ready for this. He thought about retreating, leaving the mysteries of his past untouched, but he had come much too far now to turn back.

Jean, sensing his trepidation, asked, "Do you want to go through with this?"

"Yes," Michael simply replied, keeping his eyes on his younger self. He thought it strange being able to view himself from the outside. The younger version sat at the desk his parents had bought days ago, drawing and coloring contently. Michael remembered that it was a Friday, and he had just gotten home from school. Without any homework, Michael usually took on an artist's persona and drew whatever came to mind.

He remembered the events of this day far too well up to a point. This was the day that his powers erupted, overwhelming him. Though he didn't remember anything after the horrible flash of white light behind his eyes, Dr. Cain revealed to him that he spent a week in a coma. During that time, his telekinesis manifested, randomly moving furniture and objects in his recovery room. At the same time, his telepathy developed, but at a very low level, luckily for him.

Michael took a step toward his younger self. But he stopped abruptly as the voice sounded from all around them.

"You have come. There is something you must see...you must understand. My time is near."

Michael shot a panicked glance toward Jean. "The voice—Jean, did you hear that?"

"I did," she calmly replied. Jean felt the resonance of familiarity as soon as the other presence made itself known. And at that moment, she realized that their hypothesis was indeed correct. "Where are you? Show yourself," Jean called.

"Ah. You are not alone. Someone much like me. Mother?"

Michael looked to Jean for clarification, but he couldn't read anything in her expression. The voice seemed to know Jean, but how could that be? Unless...

Michael explained to the voice, "Ummm...this is Jean, my teacher. We were looking for you. I wanted to find you. I told her that you've been speaking to me, and sometimes helping me. But I don't know what you are."

"My existence is. And I have been with you all this time. I was not lost."

Resigning to the flat logic of the voice, Michael said, "No, I guess not. But my powers have changed. Something's happening, and I don't know what it is. And I don't know if I'm a danger to my friends. I don't know who or what you are, and that scares me."

"Ah. Questions answered. Mysteries solved. Lives questioned. Endings and new beginnings. Yes, the time has come. You must see me, and I must show you."

From nowhere, small spheres of floating lights appeared, first languidly stirring within the space of the room, then gravitating towards each other, dragged by an unseen, yet strong force. As the fragments clumped together on the other side of the room, the light intensified and a soft amber glow filled the room. As Michael and Jean watched, the light diminished and took a human form, no larger than a young girl. Distinct features and clothing materialized and for the first time, Michael laid eyes on the form of the mysterious voice.

Before he could draw a conclusion as to why he and Jean were facing a blond girl, Jean took a hesitant step forward.

"Annie..." Jean whispered, instantly recognizing her best friend, Annie Masonson. The Phoenix fragment had enough of a connection to Jean to know about Annie's accident, which triggered Jean's first interaction with the Phoenix. Now that she and Hank's hypothesis was validated, Jean wanted to know just what the Phoenix fragments intentions were. And how it bonded with Michael.

The young girl smiled pleasantly. Having dirty blond hair and friendly brown eyes, the duplicate of Annie Masonson took a few steps toward them. "This form, I choose for its familiarity to Mother."

Feeling Michael's confusion, Jean explained, "Annie Masonson was my best friend. We did everything together. One day, when we were playing, Annie ran into the street—and was hit by a car. I held her, and at that moment, I connected with her through my telepathy. As she died in my arms, I felt her die in my mind as well."

Michael wanted to say something, but he couldn't. He honestly didn't know what to say. The voice inside his head had turned out to be something somehow related to Jean Grey-Summers, which only made the situation more awkward and confusing. Was Jean somehow responsible for the voice? Or was the voice something much larger than the both of them?

"Jean, what's going on?" Michael finally asked.

"This is a Phoenix fragment. A piece of a greater being, somehow separated with its own sentience. It still has a connection and memories of being a part of the Phoenix, yet is autonomous from it."

"A Phoenix fragment," Michael repeated, suddenly feeling off balance. His head spun slightly, thinking about the intertwining of his powers, the Phoenix, and Jean. It all merged into a web of previously unknown connections that Michael still didn't quite understand. _The power to create and destroy_—that was the description of the Phoenix that Rico provided earlier in the day. But Michael couldn't believe that he had a part of that power now residing somewhere within him, just like Jean.

"Yes. A part of Mother. But yet, a part of you,"Annie enigmatically stated before crossing the room. Taking slow and deliberate steps, Annie walked up behind the younger version of Michael and admired the artwork over his shoulder. "You must remember the past in its entirety."

"Why is this so important? Why now?"

"I grow weaker by the second. This is my last act."

It wasn't until then that Michael noticed the difference from the other times. The voice, though initially erupting all around them, had grown to a mere telepathic whisper. Even the image of Annie seemed a bit more translucent than a few minutes before. "I don't understand. You're a voice in my head. Or a Phoenix fragment. Or whatever. But you're talking like you're..." he trailed off.

"Dying," Jean finished. "It's just like Hank said. The Phoenix fragments have a limited lifespan and consciousness. There's nothing we can do," Jean said, again sensing Michael's shock and concern.

"Yes. Mother is right. But do not fret. I have no regrets. When you called to me, so long ago, I chose to respond."

Michael shook his head as if denying the very thought of having reached for something so mysterious and powerful. "So long ago? I don't even know what you are. I couldn't have called to you."

Annie smiled, dimples forming in her slightly blushed cheeks. "A pleasant boy. Friendly. Artistic. Talented. A bright light shone within you. Only enhanced your destiny as a mutant. Powerful. Much more than your body or mind could handle."

Michael turned his attention to his younger self, who continued to draw, unaware of his ethereal visitors. Though Michael already knew the outcome, he watched carefully, gripped by the suspense and knowledge that there was something more he hadn't ever really known.

He jumped slightly when young Michael dropped his pencil, startled by a small lamp next to his bed crashing to the floor. In retrospect, he understood it was a random telekinetic act, the first sign that his powers were appearing. The puzzled youngster slid from the chair, visibly shaken since he thought he was alone. But after taking two steps, he stopped when the curtains fluttered though the window was closed.

"Mommy?" young Michael called, but the door slammed cutting him off from the rest of the house.

Just then, his bed began to shake as random objects in his room stirred—minor rattling quickly turned into a violent maelstrom of movement. Young Michael opened his mouth to scream, but lost his voice as a searing pain exploded from behind his eyes. Unable to stand, the boy collapsed to his knees, but suddenly began to rise into the air, unknowingly lifting himself with what he would later find out was telekinesis.

Michael watched in horror, witnessing for the first time the circumstances surrounding the appearance of his powers.

Young Michael floated in the middle of the room as everything around him shook uncontrollably and anything not secured to the floor began to rise off the ground. As more objects were effected by Michael's telekinesis, a faint aura of rippling blue energy resembling fire poured off his body. But within a single moment, the flames transformed into a brilliant,

omni-directional inferno with young Michael at the center.

Horrified at the scene, Michael hesitantly stepped forward, the desire to rescue himself overtaking all sense of logic. He failed to register that this was something within his own mind, having been locked away for years. But, Michael halted abruptly when the voice spoke.

"There is more you should see."

Michael spun as the door swung inward, courtesy of a hard shoulder from his father. His mother was right behind, and they both froze when they saw their son, floating in the air. The young boy turned, and though his eyes burned fire blue, they pleaded for help. But his parents just stood there, unable to comprehend exactly what they were witnessing and why their son was somehow in the middle of it.

His parents staggered back as young Michael reached out for them. _"Mommy? Daddy?"_ he telepathically called out to them, though at the time didn't realize what he was doing This only frightened his parents more as they took a retreating step.

Young Michael's gaze went to his hand as it began to disintegrate, small flakes of himself simply tearing away. Though it should have hurt, young Michael couldn't feel anything. But even at this young age, he understood that he was in mortal peril.

"What's happening to me?" Michael asked, voicing the question that young Michael asked with his expression. "I don't remember any of this!"

"Your powers, vast. But your body, human. This power destroyed you."

"Destroyed?" Michael quietly repeated. _Destroyed_, as Annie the Phoenix fragment put it, sounded like such a permanent happening, something that transpired to storybook characters facing something dangerously supernatural. Michael couldn't accept that at some point, he was _destroyed_ by the same power he now wielded with relative ease.

Annie answered, "Yes."

Michael kept his eyes glued to the scene, watching as the phenomenon moved up to his wrist then lower arm. The whole scene played in slow motion to him, as it began to play in his mind—long-lost memory finally resurfacing. And just like that, Michael remembered everything.

Stating to both Jean and Annie, Michael explained, "I didn't really know what it was to die, but I knew that I was. And I knew that I didn't want to die. My parents, they didn't help...just stared as my body tore apart. I read their thoughts—they thought I was some kind of monster. A freak. A demon. They thought someone had taken their Michael. They denied the boy floating in front of them—me."

If tears were possible in the Astral Plane, Michael would have shed them. Remembering some of the awful things his parents thought and the overwhelming intensity of the eruption of his powers, Michael clenched his eyes closed, trying to shove all of it back into the dark place he had kept it for so long. It was then that he realized that the dark place that the voice kept bringing him to was of his own making, not the Phoenix fragment.

Annie said, "You transcended. But that wasn't in your destiny. You wanted to live. I felt your will. And I came."

Just as young Michael's entire body vanished into nothing, another source of energy pulsed through the room. But this one was starkly different—an almost unnoticeable speck of amber light floating right in the place where young Michael had just disappeared.

The amber light let off a single pulse of energy, and in that moment, the furniture and objects dropped to the ground and young Michael's body reformed, the pieces pulled back as if the floating light was a gravitational core. The energies that cascaded through the room were collected as well, disappearing back into the now fully reformed young Michael. The limp, unconscious boy fell to the ground, unconscious.

It was then and only then that his parents darted into the room, checking young Michael's pulse and breathing.

"Enough," Michael said. "I don't want to see anymore."His desire became reality within the Astral Plane, and the figures of his mother, father, and younger self vanished.

Jean searched Michael's eyes and found a vacant, lackluster stare. She couldn't fully grasp how he felt, what he was thinking, or what he was going to do next. But she knew the next few moments would be crucial. "Michael," Jean softly said, "talk to me. Tell me what you're feeling right now."

"I died," Michael lifelessly replied.

Jean Grey felt that she had stumbled on a less-intergalactic version of her own interaction with the Phoenix. It wasn't that long ago that she volunteered to pilot the space shuttle, telekinetically shielding herself from the radiation bombarding the craft. However, her powers failed, and essentially, her body died. Only her will to live remained, which is the only thing that protected the rest of the X-Men. Some would say that at some point in that situation, Jean transcended the normal boundaries of a dual-psionic, becoming a being of pure energy and burning out her own body, which drew the attention of the Phoenix.

In front of her stood a young man, who had no idea how his powers had developed or why he was now intertwined with the Phoenix. Until now. And Jean felt a range of emotions pouring from him. Anger. Sadness. Disbelief. Trepidation. Hesitation.

Jean turned toward Annie, her eyes flashing. "He wasn't ready for this. Why? Why did you show him this? Why did he need to know now?"

"To know the future, one must know the past. And accept it. You should know that better than anyone, Mother," the Annie duplicate answered matter-of-factly. There was no trace of malicious intent or vindictive malice. The Phoenix fragment maintained a neutral expression as she watched Michael from across the room.

Michael shook his head disbelievingly, casting his eyes toward the ground. "I—I died."

"But you were reborn better," Annie reminded him.

Before Jean could say anything, Michael's anger dominated and flared, and he pointed an accusing finger at Annie. "What if—what if I was better off dead? Did you ever think about that? My parents hate me. They saw everything. And they were scared...they didn't believe I was their son. In their eyes, I died on that day. And this power...it's hasn't been anything but trouble. Even now, everyone in the school is scared. They're all scared of me and what I could do. And it's your fault! You didn't ask me...you just jumped in the middle of my damn life!"

The house shook, punctuating Michael's last statement, jarring Jean and Annie. But Michael kept himself steady, using his facsimile of telekinesis. All around them, dry wall, plaster, and wood cracked against the pressure of cascading building psi-energy emanating from Michael. Jean glanced around and found the ceiling sagging slightly, not necessarily close to caving in. For the moment.

Michael, now totally focused on Annie, glared at the blond girl, practically forgetting that Jean was even there. His hands clenched by his side, Michael gritted his teeth as his arms quivered from the intense strain.

Reaching out, the remade Annie said, "I only meant to—"

"Shut up! Just SHUT UP!"

Walls splintered and the smaller pieces of furniture either broke or were thrown against the wall, all from the building pressure of Michael's summoned abilities. Heavier pieces of future lifted silently into the air, as the room became a storm of raw power. Michael's energy surprised even Jean as she protected herself, waiting until the right moment to intervene.

Suddenly, his telekinesis and telepathy combined into a destructive force, as his now trademark fiery blue aura surrounded him. The energies converged at the center of his forehead, then without warning, a flash of blue tore from Michael's head.

The psi-bolt tore through Annie easily and much too fast for her to react to protect herself. She flew head over heels and smashed into the wall behind her. Though a deadly attack, Annie simply pulled herself from the rather large dent, expression unchanged.

Everything happened so fast that it took Jean a few moments to figure out what exactly had happened. He had used it—a psi-bolt. Here on the astral plane. Without any coaching or training. Jean surmised that Michael's high level of power came from the fact that he seemed to instinctively know how to handle and wield his immense power. Which could prove to be dangerous for them. And himself.

Things had gone much too far and very unlike Jean had originally envisioned. If she didn't stop Michael soon, he would only succeed in hurting himself. Or worse.

"Michael, calm down," Jean directed, her tone urgent. "Control your power and emotions, don't let them control you."

She didn't have time to explain, but Michael would only irreparably damage his mind and hers if he continued, which is why she had to stop him. Using her own powers, Jean first shielded herself to prevent any psychic backlash, then encased the room in a protective shield. Jean used a considerable amount of power to exist and interact in the astral plane, to keep both her and Michael anchored to their bodies, and to counteract Michael's formidable abilities in the Astral Plane. Still, any lapse in concentration on Jean's part could easily turn disastrous.

"No," Michael defiantly stated, leaving no room for argument and no doubt that he fully intended to continue his assault on Annie. His voice quivering with anger, he lashed out, "I've never been in control. This body and my mind—they aren't mine. They're infused with YOU!"

Jean wasn't sure whether Michael's anger was directed at the Phoenix fragment or her. Either way, she couldn't blame him for his reaction, though Jean never really considered this outcome. But her own reaction to the Phoenix and related memories from Madelyne Pryor was much the same. Denial. Fury. Disbelief. Though Jean knew she really wasn't to blame, a stab of guilt pained her as Michael's now glowing blue eyes glared at her and Annie.

Annie's voice grew softer as she replied, "My power exists no more. To rebirth you, I lent most of my strength. The rest of my power continued to protect you from your own powers. But these powers are yours and yours alone. You have the strength to control it. Your body and mind are yours. No one else's. Remember that."

Michael watched as Annie gave him a genuine smile, coupled with a knowing glance as her figure continued to fade away. His feelings were mixed and confusing, and he really didn't know or what how he should feel.

Only a minute ago, he wanted to hurt the Phoenix fragment, if for no other reason, to let it feel a fraction of the pain he had felt for many years of his life. From the rejection of his parents, to Cain's kidnapping, to his total life upheaval—Michael felt as though he had been put through nothing but pain since being _rebirthed_ as Annie put it.

But deep down, Michael wanted to save the Phoenix fragment as the reality settled back in that it was already dying. His attacks did nothing but possibly shorten its lifespan. And for that, Michael felt sorry. Right now, he was being dangerously ambivalent, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. Not now.

Only a barely visible outline left, Michael though only briefly about reaching out for her, asking her to stay to help him understand. And to use her power to save herself from dying.

Annie shook her head gently, as if she knew and understood Michael's feelings in their entirety. "This is my sacrifice. My way of honoring Mother. Now, you must go forth. Live the life you were meant to."

Michael's breath caught as his anger died down. In response, the capricious results of his powers dwindled, and all the activity in the room dissipated. His accusing eyes softened as he replied, "But I don't know how."

"You'll find the way."

Then, Annie was gone. The Phoenix fragment was gone. And for the first time, the pain of emptiness hit him.

Michael swayed for a second, dizzied by the aftershock of the emotional flood he nearly drowned in. Letting off a fading moan, Michael collapsed to his hands and knees and clenched his eyes shut. Exhausted, Michael could barely maintain his concentration. "The voice. It's gone. I can't feel it anymore. Jean, it's gone."

She kneeled next to him, a reassuring hand on his back. "There's no need to feel bad. The Phoenix fragment was right—it made its choices. And you have a chance to make your own choices. And you can make the right ones, Michael. I believe in you. And now, you should believe in yourself."

Michael let Jean help him climb to his feet. He glanced around as if he just now realized the destruction he caused. "I don't know how. Where do I even begin?"

"You're alive, Michael. And that's always a good place to start."

Notes

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional

Aotrs Commander: I think it's awesome that you're still following the story! Thanks for the review on the last chapter! As you see, it didn't turn into an epic Shi'ar adventure...that's already been done. It's really a deeper look into the Phoenix, Michael, and Jean, and their relationship to one another. You'll have to let me know how this all played out in this chapter.


	32. After the Phoenix is Gone

I.

Emma Frost stared out of her ceiling-to-floor window, adding her own silence to the uncomfortable quiet that had settled in her office. Almost immediately after Jean pulled Michael from the Astral Plane, he tore out of Emma's office, his telekinetic departure rattling the entire room. It wasn't quite the reaction Emma expected, though she was thankful that Michael tearing out of her office was the only fallout from their trip to the astral plane.

Jean didn't immediately speak either, but she rubbed her temple gingerly and had an unreadable expression on her face. Instead of questioning her, Emma stood from her desk and took a moment to compose herself and her next words. When she turned from the window, Emma crossed her arms and glared accusingly.

"When I asked you to help, Jean, that's what I expected you to do. Help. Not make matters worse," the edge of agitation was clear in Emma's voice as her blue eyes narrowed. "Every time you and this Phoenix are mixed up in anything—"

"Ach! Lass, yuir bein' too hard," Sean interjected. He knew that there was a risk to taking sides, but he couldn't simply sit there and let Emma deride Jean. Continuing while softening his tone, Sean said, "Jean dinnae do anythin' wrong. Ah've known th' lass fer years now. Anythin' that she did would have only helped th' lad. Jus' give her a moment. Ah'm sure she'll explain."

Jean made a mental note to thank Sean later for his intervention, knowing that Emma would probably chastise him for it. Maintaining a psychic anchor to ensure their astral plane selves returned to their bodies, protecting Michael's mind, and shielding the both of them had given her a slight headache. His vast powers were only amplified within his own mind, and it took a tremendous amount of energy to protect them. The resulting headache began to abate, and Jean took a relaxing breath before explaining.

"When his powers emerged, they literally destroyed his body. He turned into a being of pure thought, but with his inexperience, he wouldn't have been able to maintain his own consciousness. I still don't know how or why, but the Phoenix fragment bonded with him and recreated his body and mind. And it sealed off some of his powers until he was capable of handling them. But like Hank said, the Phoenix fragments have a limited lifespan—it used all of its energy to revive Michael and keep his powers at bay."

Hank adjusted his glasses, then chimed in. "Then most of our initial hypothesis was correct. And as the Phoenix fragment faded from existence, Michael's powers re-emerged at full capacity. But because of his body's maturation and adaptation to his mutant abilities, he can control it much better."

"McCoy. Jean. What I want to know plain and simple is if my student is a danger to himself or anyone around him. If this Phoenix business gets out of hand—well, we've all seen the consequences of that. Besides, Sean and I have certain guardianship responsibilities for our students, and if anything happens to any of them—" Emma didn't finish, but instead her jaw clenched tightly and her hands curled into fists.

She kept her mind from straying back to the death of her first set of students, the Hellions. The wound still hadn't healed, and Emma didn't think it ever would. And she would be damned if any other young mutants under her care were inured in any significant way. Emma vowed to protect them—even from themselves—no matter the cost.

"The Phoenix or any part of it isn't inside of Michael. Not anymore," she resolutely stated. "So, there's no chance that we'll have that sort of incident here. Your students are safe. And thankfully, Michael is safe too." Jean watched Emma visibly relax, returning to her normal, regal posture and expression.

Sean nodded. "Aye. Tis good t' hear. And this explains th' lad's power jumps recently."

Hank rubbed his chin the way he always did when he was deep in though. "Upon our return to the mansion, I'll make specific annotations regarding this situation within his medical records. Emma and Sean, with your permission, I would like to perform monthly check-ups for the time being, just to ensure his mental, emotional, and physical well-being. Given the complexity of the situation and our experience with the Phoenix, I'd rather perform the examinations and not burden Cecelia with it."

"Of course, Hank," Sean acquiesced. "Ah appreciate all ye've done fer Michael. Ye too, Jean. He's a good lad."

"I know," Jean smiled at Sean. Though she had only met Michael this week, Jean felt the same parental concern for him and the other students, same as Emma and Sean.

Emma said, "Well, I'd simply like to know whether my student will be able to attend classes on Monday. This is a school after all. Or if I need to put him on bedrest. Or whatever the dear doctor prescribes."

"Unless Jean says otherwise, I don't think that will be necessary," Hank said, letting his gaze rest on Jean, indicating that she should chime in.

"I think he'll be fine," Jean added. "He's shaken. Justifiably so. But after what I saw, I'm convinced...he's strong enough to get through this. I think he has to work things out for himself first. But when he's ready, he'll reach out. And we just have to make sure we're there to take his hand."

"Well, that we will. Sean and I will see the both of you out." With that, Emma stood, and motioned toward the door, following Jean and Hank out, while Sean trailed behind.

Jean took a few strides towards the door, but then turned to Emma, pausing for a moment. "You know, I questioned Charles's decision to let you teach here. I think I still do—you've always been the White Queen in my eyes. We have history. Bad history. But he saw something in you that you keep hidden well. And for the first time, I caught a glimpse of the woman behind the Queen façade. It's evident you care for your students. And for that, I respect you. We may never get along, let alone like each other. But you're doing the right thing."

Emma was significantly caught off guard and for a moment was stricken speechless. Jean Grey-Summers was the last person on earth Emma expected to render her a compliment. Given their rather complex and colorful history, she wasn't surprised that they didn't break out into a fistfight every time they saw each other. They were past the epic battles of mutant abilities—they were back to being schoolyard kids, and the only way to resolve conflict was through fists. But both women were better than that, so their words became their fists. And Jean's kind words hit Emma harder than any fierce word Jean could have thrown her way.

"For once," Emma said as she met Jean's gaze. "I really don't know what to say."

Jean smiled with a slight twinkle in her emerald eyes. "Sometimes, it's better that way."

II.

Despite what people assumed, Michael Lawson had always felt a little uncomfortable in his own skin. Sure, he had a confident swagger that most jokingly said was a modelesque catwalk. And sure, he portrayed an outgoing, easily humored guy, with a strong sense of justice and a sometimes goofy sense of humor. And of course, he made an effort to get to know people, be sociable, and sometimes be the center of attention. But deep down, he wasn't the confident, vibrant guy everyone saw him as.

He was nervous, sensitive, and insecure. And now, as he sat on the edge of his bed, those qualities were bursting through, and he felt as if everything had completely fallen apart. It didn't seem that things would never be right again, as if he were just spinning his wheels trying to make a difference in this world while trying to improve himself. Maybe he wasn't meant to be a hero. And maybe, he wasn't meant to make a difference. Maybe, he just wasn't meant to do anything at all.

And it didn't help that only moments ago, Michael had discovered the origin of his powers, witness the apparent death of someone—no thing—residing within his mind...a _Phoenix fragment_ as Jean referred to it. And it had changed everything he thought he knew—his past, his present, and his future.

He breathed deeply, failing to fight back the wave of negativity that pinned him down. And as the moments ticked on, it only got worse.

Sighing one last time, he flipped himself into the air, propelled and suspended solely by his telekinesis. As he had just last week, he steadied himself in an upside-down, sitting position with his legs crossed lotus-style. It only took a few moments for him to adjust to his mid-air position, and as his breathing settled into a peaceful rhythm, he began to place the bad things into little boxes.

This time, he kept his telepathy focused. Without much effort, he also continually scanned the immediate area, to include the hallway outside. So he identified Vanessa's mental signature well before a sharp knock resounded through his room and her voice penetrated through the door.

"Are you going to sulk in there all day, or are you going to come down and at least pretend to be sociable?" Vanessa called, after his door didn't open. She waited patiently on the other side of the door, drawing only slightly closer to listen for any noise that would indicate a response. Returned with silence, Vanessa rapped on the door again and said, "Could you at least—"

She was cut off by the door opening slowly, leaving her hand poised in the air in-between knocks. Vanessa expected him to greet her at the door, but instead, saw no one, which meant that he opened the door using his telekinesis.

As the room came into full view, the first thing she noticed was a vague blue energy signature rippling around Michael as he suspended himself a few feet above his bed, upside down. Crossing her arms, she said, "Rico told me you have some weird yoga thing you're doing now. And I didn't believe him, but seeing you like this is a little strange."

Telepathically, he replied, _"It's a relaxation trick Jean taught me."_

She crossed her arms in annoyance. "Don't do the telepathic thing with me. Mike, just talk to me. Everyone's worried. Not to mention that you had to see Emma this afternoon. What happened?"

Michael opened his eyes, blue energy rippling in the place that his eyes should have been. "I'm sorry. I just don't want to talk about it. Not now. I need some time to think about things."

"You've been thinking about things since we got here. And you've been trying to deal with your power issues on your own. But you don't have to. We can help."

Michael flipped in midair and used his telekinesis to guide him down beside his bed. He landed softly on his feet, then closed the gap between him and Vanessa. "It's just that I found out some things about myself that I'd rather not talk about right now. When I'm ready, I'll tell everyone what happened. But right now, I have to try to deal with this on my own."

"Being a part of a team means that you don't have to do things by yourself. We're your friends. Why can't you let us in?"

"I'm not really trying to shut you guys out, Vanessa. I just—it's complicated," he punctuated his sentence with a heavy sigh and shake of his head.

"It seems like everything is complicated these days. I just want you to be okay, complicated or not." Her hazel eyes prodded, searching Michael for anything that would give her the slightest notion that his sudden change into a recluse of sorts was nothing more than a phase.

"It's not that easy. You don't understand—"

"Then help me to understand. I want to know, I want to help. We all do." She took another step towards him, and it was only then that Vanessa felt like she had stepped intimately close to Michael. Less than a foot from each other, she felt her face flush slightly, but she couldn't bring herself to move back. And when her eyes met his, it seemed that everything around them stopped.

"I—" he began but trailed off, lost in her eyes. And before he realized exactly what he was doing, he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. He barely breathed as she timidly returned the kiss, her full, soft lips now against Michael's.

As the kiss intensified, all of Michael's fears, doubts, and anger melted away, for the duration of the kiss, he was truly happy. But as sudden as the kiss had happened, Michael pulled back, his cheeks hot with embarrassment and his stomach tingling with excitement. "I—I'm sorry."

"No, I—," Vanessa stalled, at a loss for the right words. So many thoughts stampeded though her mind, and she really didn't want Michael to inadvertently pick up her thoughts. Her eyes lowered, and for a moment neither one spoke. "Mike, I care about you. I have for a long time. I want you to be okay," she finally said.

Michael wanted to say something else about the kiss, but thought twice about it. He had so many things going through his mind that he wasn't sure anything he said would be quite right. Instead, he responded, "I want to be okay too. And I will be. Just give me some time." He took her hand in his, "Give us some time."

With her other hand, Vanessa's caressed his cheek, as her hazel eyes searched his deep brown eyes. "Just know that we're here for you—I'm here for you." She smiled beautifully when she heard his stomach growl. "And everyone else is here for you too. Come down."

Michael continued to hold her hand, soft and delicate, as she led him out of his room. For that moment in time, that was the only thing he focused on. And that made him happy.

III.

"Hey, looks like you dragged our missing teammate out from the dungeons of the school! What's up, Mikey?" Rico asked, bringing attention to Michael and Vanessa descending the stairs. He also noted that the two were holding hands, and a wide grin spread across his face. He didn't want to call them out, but vowed to poke fun at them later.

His gray eyes lit up and a grin spread across his face as Vanessa and Michael headed towards the group. Currently, all of the members of Generation X, excluding the younger students, all congregated in the living room, seated in various places, discussions ranging from the latest pop video to the current trend of politics.

Gaia broke from her conversation with Lily, smiled at Michael, and said, "Oh, glorious day that you have been released from the horrid bowels of this deceptive sanctuary."

Vanessa shook her head and sighed before explaining. "Gaia, there are no horrid bowels. Emma's office is actually upstairs."

Angelo burst out laughing, which overshadowed Rico's subdued chuckle. Jono's shoulders shook with unheard laughter. Even Vincent gave a half-smile as he shook his head at the choice of words. On the other hand, Everett's hand went to his head in disbelief.

"Now, what is so funny?" Paige asked.

In between spurts of laughter, Angelo said, "She said horrid bowels."

A collective groan came from several of the students.

"Guys," Jubilee said, uncharacteristically becoming the reprimanding adult. "Like up the like maturity level. Like times a thousand. At least."

Gaia waved away Vanessa's observation. "Oh, your minor details have no consequence on the unfair imprisonment of our comrade."

Slightly annoyed, Vanessa quietly commented, "Everything is so over-the-top with you."

Michael stepped in, keeping his own laughter in check. "Umm...thanks for the concern and compliment, Gaia. It really wasn't a big deal."

"Hark, gallant teammate, minimizing the painful memory—thou art a true hero!"

Michael shook his head in disbelief. _I swear she was supposed to stop talking like that_, he noted. Aside from being comical, it was way too over-dramatic, and he felt embarrassed having her go on like that.

Jono noted Michael's uneasy expression and took over the conversation. _"Hey, mate. I didn't get the chance to tell you, good show. Tom told me afterwards that we got an A, despite 'avin' some trouble in the beginnin'."_

Michael hadn't even thought about the grade for their first Danger Room session, but was thankful that it turned out to be an A. Even with Clarice's intervention. _At least we're off to a good start grade-wise_, he smiled to himself.

"So, back to like tha current sitch," Jubilee interjected. "Didn't think ya'd ever like get outta detention! Ol' Frosty make ya write _I will be a good boy_ like a million zillion times or what? I mean, dang...like what was up with her callin' ya in anyways?"

"I'm surprised I didn't get called in just dropping into the Danger Room like that," Clarice said. During their class and while she was exploring the school, Clarice inadvertently teleported into the middle of their class. And the five students were facing off against none other than the supervillain known as Magneto. But Clarice accidentally teleported in exactly the right time, and she was instrumental in defeating him. However, she wasn't supposed to be there—she hadn't officially enrolled in the school, let alone agreed to be a costumed hero, so Danger Room sessions were off-limits. Which Tom reinforced after the class.

"So why did you get called to her office?" Ethan pried.

_Not now, not in front of everyone_, Michael groaned to himself. Ethan was persistent, and Michael had to give him credit for that. But he didn't appreciate being put on the spot. At the same time, he couldn't keep avoiding telling everyone the truth.

He replied, "I thought everyone here would have known. It was because of my powers. It's been a point of concern for everyone since I got here. I'm a telekinetic, but I've managed to use my powers against energy, my telekinesis has been off the charts, and even my telepathic ability is much sharper these days. And it all came to a head when I managed to hold back the explosion in the Danger Room. So, I had to see Emma. And Sean. And Jean. And Dr. McCoy."

"Ay. Sounds like you had the heavy hitters in there, amigo. Everything cool?" Angelo asked.

Before he could answer, Michael saw the aforementioned foursome heading down the stairs, pausing at the bottom. And almost immediately, Jean's and Michael's eye met. And her knowing expression meant that she somehow knew what Michael intended to do.

_"Are you ready to do this?"_ Jean telepathically asked, ensuring their communication was shielded from everyone, including Emma.

_ "Yes. Yes, I am. I have to be strong. And they're worried. They should know. And I should be the one to tell them."_

Michael broke his momentary eye contact with Jean to face his teammates—no, his friends. Practically family now. "I have to tell you guys something, and I should probably start off by saying I haven't been entirely truthful with all of you. And I owe Ethan an apology because he was concerned, and I just kept avoiding being honest with him."

He paused for a moment.

"Dude, don't be all like mysterious an' junk. It's cool. Whatever it is, ya can tell us. We're like yer family, ya know?" Jubilee encouraged him in her own way.

"Yeah. You're right," Michael took a deep breath before continuing. "Since I got here, and especially this afternoon, I found out some things about myself that I didn't realize before—not just about my powers but about me as a person."

"Did you discover what an asshole you are?" Vincent spat.

"Silence, cretin. I, much like my cousin and teammates, grow weary of your childish outbursts, antics, and tantrums. If you have a problem with Michael, then address it with him like an adult in a private setting. Do not interrupt when he's making a concerted effort. Understood?" Monet's light brown eyes glared at Vincent, and when he didn't immediately respond, they narrowed as she crossed her arms annoyingly.

"Fine. Whatever," Vincent said, sinking back into his usual sulking expression.

_Wow. Monet stood up for me? Has hell frozen over?_ Michael thought to himself, unwittingly projecting his thoughts.

_ "Not quite,"_ Monet responded, eliciting a knowing smile from her cousin.

Michael continued. "When my powers first developed, they tore me apart. Literally. In essence, I died. Something called a Phoenix fragment brought me back to life and stayed with me until today. It used its power to help me control mine. And doing so cost its life. This afternoon, I faced my past. And I discovered that in the present I'm strong enough, because my strength comes from the people around me—all of you. I don't know what the future holds for any of us or Dr. Cain, but I know that I'll figure it out with all of you at my side."

Ethan seemed satisfied with the explanation, since he of all people had voiced the most concern. "Well, how do you feel?"

"I really don't know. I guess it's just going to take time for me to understand how I feel and where to go from here."

Rico looked at Michael suspiciously. "So, you don't have the strong urge to change your codename, costume, devour any solar systems, or do anything cosmically wrong, right?"

"You are like totally dumb!" Jubilee slapped his arm to punctuate her statement.

"What too soon?" Rico chanced a glance at Jean who gave him a half-smile. He knew that his somewhat flat joke was appreciated, which made him feel good. He had just made an X-Man smile. His day was made.

Michael shook his head, chuckling in part humor and in part disbelief that Rico made such an off-the-wall joke. "No. I'm still Marvel. Michael Lawson. No one else. And I'm good with that."

"Okay, sounds like we need a group hug!" Lily announced.

"Group hug!" resounded from everyone as they crowded around a protesting Michael.

They all laughed heartily as they embraced and

_"You did well. And you'll be fine. Remember that I know what you're going through, and I'm here if you need it."_

_"Thank you, Jean. And I'll be ready for class on Monday."_

_ "You better be. I expect great things from you."_

_ "Yeah. So do I."_

IV.

Jason Tate first stirred within his own mind, before his body sluggishly reacted. His eyes fluttered open right after he realized he was laying on a frigid, tiled floor. In the next second, he felt a pain unlike any other, something that ached from deep within his body. When he tried to pinpoint what exactly hurt, Jason settled on the fact that _everything_ hurt.

_But why? _

He shouldn't be in some strange, dark place. His body shouldn't feel like it was put through a blender. He shouldn't have heard the rattle of chains when he finally mustered enough strength to move his arms. Yet, all these things were horribly true, and for the life of him, Jason couldn't immediately discern why.

The day had begun simple enough—Jason had a normal day at school, went home, finished up some calculus and physics homework, ate dinner with his family, then went for an evening run. Nothing out of the ordinary. But something must have happened on the run for him to end up in such a predicament. Jason failed to focus, his mind simply unable to retrieve the memory that would have immediately answered his question.

Instead, through his haze, he heard a male voice. "Hey, are you awake?"

Jason groaned in between labored breaths before coughing to clear his throat, which still didn't help his dry, cracked voice. "Yeah. What—what happened? Who are you? Where are we?"

"Slow down, man. I'm Ty Sullivan. There's someone else here too—Craig Taylor. Right now, it just looks like the three of us."

Jason pushed himself to a sitting position, letting his eyes adjust to the dim room. The only light that managed to get into the room seeped from around the door on the opposite side of the wall he was against. As his eyes finally adjusted, the small amount of light proved to be enough for him to view his surroundings.

Ty sounded as though he were next to him, and as Jason peered though the darkness, he could make out two brown eyes staring at him through dark blond bangs. Tanned and muscular, Jason thought that Ty had stepped straight out of an American Eagle catalogue with his fitted t-shirt, faded jeans and casual shoes.

On the other side of Jason was Craig. Another male teen model mold, Craig's tussled dark hair and features complimented his strong build, clearly visible through his long-sleeved shirt and jeans. At second glance, Jason realized that Craig was either sleep or unconscious. Considering their situation, probably the latter.

Jason figured that he could have gotten them out of there in a matter of minutes with his ability to control the earth. With nothing more than a thought, he could have summoned earth stalagmites to rip through the chains, while he created a localized earthquake to cover their escape. But he just couldn't lock onto the abilities he had used for years without fail. He could still feel something there, but it was weak, a fraction of a shadow of his earth-controlling mutant powers.

Unsure whether the other two were mutants or not, Jason said, "Any chance of us escaping?"

"Nope," Ty quickly said. "Already tried. These chains aren't going to break easy. And I may not look it, but I'm a mutant. My friends call me Static. Lightning's my specialty. But I can't do anything. It's like I've lost my powers."

_He's a mutant too?_ Jason got excited momentarily, envisioning an increasing chance that they could escape. And odds were that Craig was a mutant too. But then, why exactly were three mutants kidnapped and being held prisoner? Jason's excitement rapidly descended into dread, as he realized his captors could have been anyone from a nefarious mutant upstart to some kind of mutant hate group, and anyone within that spectrum was probably capable of ill intent. If they were being held prisoner, someone had plans for them. And chances were that those plans weren't good at all.

"I can't use my powers either," Jason said. After a surprised look crossed Ty's face, he continued. "Earthquakes, rock formations, that sort of thing. You know if Craig's a mutant too?"  
Ty nodded. "Controls water. Said that he lived at some Corporation and that they're probably looking for him. I guess there's a lot of mutants at this Corporation place he talked about. Besides that, my parents are probably out looking for me now. I've been here for like a day. So has he."

"Which means the police are probably involved by now. But where are we?" Jason asked, though he meant it more as a rhetorical question. Both Craig and Ty were victims just like him, and knew just as much as he did about their current situation. Which equated to nothing at most.

Ty absently replied, "I don't know. Last thing I remember, I took a shortcut through the park to meet up with some friends. Then I woke up here. Wherever here is."

Jason noted the similarities in the stories and surmised that Craig's story wouldn't be any different. Someone had waited until they were alone to take them, which meant that whoever it was had either been following them for quite some time or had a hell of a good sense of timing. Either way, it made the situation that much more mysterious and dangerous.

"Any sign of our captors?"

Ty didn't answer immediately and only shook his head. His voice dropped to a hoarse, ominous whisper, and he replied, "I don't think you're going to believe this."

"Tell me."

"A monster. We're being held by some kind of monster. That's why Craig's knocked out. It has these gaping mouths in its hands, and he puts them on our chest. I don't know what happens after that, but I always feel weak and like my powers are completely gone. It's like a vampire or something."

Jason didn't want to believe Ty. A vampire? But why? Why them? Why mutants? As the questions rumbled in his head, approaching footsteps caught both guys' attention.

They gave each other a fleeting glance, mixed with alarm and fear, then their eyes settled on the door just as the footsteps came to a halt. The clink of metal resounded through the room, and the door creaked open to reveal a rather diminutive man, pale with an impossibly wide grin and a driver's cap covering most of his upper face. The acronym D.O.A. was scrawled on the front of the dark-colored hat, which matched his drab, tattered suit. The loosely tied sneakers seemed almost like a perfect touch to the rather strange-looking fellow.

"Ah, you're awake," D.O.A. stated, somehow maintaining his sinister grin.

"What the hell are you? And where are we?" Jason aggressively asked. He attempted to move his hands while he spoke, but the unforgiving chains yanked back against him.

"Don't worry, kiddies. That's not important. You won't be alive long enough for anyone to save you. My master just needs to keep you alive long enough to regain his strength. Boss!" D.O.A. shouted to Emplate, who simply phased into existence. "It's feeding time," D.O.A. gleefully stated.

Jason sucked in a breath as he realized exactly what Ty meant. Whatever it was that slowly advanced toward them was nothing short of a monster. And when he reached for Jason, the gaping mouths in the monster's palms opened and closed hungrily.

The last thing Jason felt was the intense, sharp pain of his life slowly slipping away.

Notes

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional

Aotrs Commander – My ever-faithful reviewer! Yes, Michael did get off lightly, but don't think he's out of the woods just yet, especially when it comes to the Phoenix. I don't think wonderful alien race known as the Shi'ar will be making an appearance, which is definitely a good thing. And you're right—I was a little thrown off when that happened as well. A terrible story plot, if I do say so myself. It's taken awhile, but I wanted these chapters to be as near-perfect as possible!


	33. Emplate's Revenge, Part 1

I.

Michael Lawson sat on the front steps of the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, mentally reviewing the recent events over the past week that had unfolded quite rapidly. Last night, he learned that another entity, something called a Phoenix fragment, had entered his mind when his telekinetic and telepathic abilities first manifested. Though Michael had been told he was in a coma for a week, the truth of the matter was that the sheer force of the psionic energies had destroyed his mind and body.

In essence, the Phoenix fragment resurrected him by rebuilding him, then remained deep within his psyche to protect him from his own powers. Now, years later, it made itself known as Michael attained the ability to control the power at his disposal. With help from X-Man and teacher, Jean Grey-Summers, he confronted the being and learned the truth. In the end, its consciousness dissipated, leaving him with the truth behind his vast powers.

While on the Astral Plane, both he and Jean witnessed the Phoenix fragment apparently dissipate and vanish, leaving Michael alone. But in some far, uncharted recess of his mind, he was sure that there was a glint of something familiar, something cosmic and grand, and something dangerous.

Given Jean's past with the Phoenix, Michael presumed that he had gotten off lightly. Last night, with Paige's help, he researched the extensive history of the mythological being. Its power was nearly beyond comprehension, which attracted attention on a universal scale. Fortunately, it didn't seem that the Shi'ar, the Hellfire Club, or any other clandestine group wanting to somehow gain power were interested at the moment.

But he pushed that out of his mind, instead, focusing on the present, which included Monet's increasingly strange behavior. Only remotely attuned to her reclusive demeanor, he also managed to notice that her actions were inconsistent and unpredictable, displaying random spurts of goodwill, such as when she reprimanded Vincent for his unnecessarily verbal attack against him. Michael was sure that she was hiding something, but he still couldn't quite figure out what it was.

He sighed deeply and cast his eyes toward the morning sky, noting the hues of blue accenting the rising sun. Though summertime, the temperature was cooler in the morning, cemented by a crisp breeze that swayed branches and small shrubs. As the minutes ticked by, the temperature rose by only a few degrees, enough to turn a cool morning into a pleasant, beautiful day.

Wearing jeans, a dark blue t-shirt, and white Adidas, he stood and stretched, then brushed off the bottom of his pants. While the others massed in the interior of the mansion, he separated himself from the group, glad for the chance to be alone. As he departed, Michael overheard plans for study groups, PS3, basketball, reading, and playing outside.

The tranquility was short-lived as a group of high-pitched giggles from the far side of the school resounded. He frowned as he focused his telepathy and almost instantly recognized the mental signature of Artie Maddicks, Leech, Nicole St. Croix, and Franklin Richards. He surmised that Claudette was with her twin sister, and when the rambunctious kids came into view, it validated his assumption. However, Yvette bounded around the corner as well, a broad smile on her face.

_That's right, I can't read her,_ Michael remembered. There were only a few of his teammates that he couldn't telepathically read: Yvette, Monet, Claudette, and Emma. For those four, he would have had to be in close quarters with them and focus all of his efforts into a mindreading attempt, even for something as simple as obtaining a mental signature. But because of their own respective power levels or natural resistance to telepathic probes, something like that carried a high failure rate, possibly resulting in his own injury.

The kids made their way to the front yard, laughing and running. Though Yvette played like the others, he could see a distinct effort on her part to maintain a few feet of physical distance away from the other kids, obviously due to her hard skin and razor-sharp claws in place of normal fingers and toes. Even her spiked hair appeared dangerously sharp, as if her entire body was meant to repel any sort of physical contact. As he watched Yvette, he could swear that Yvette's usually hard skin looked softer and more flesh-like.

Michael made a mental note of it, ensuring to bring it to Dr. Reyes' attention.

Turning his attention to the rest of the kids, he tried to decipher what they were playing. Whatever it was, it involved a lot of running and high-pitched giggling. Reflecting back on his own childhood, he wished that he had the chance to be a kid without the curse of being a mutant. They were carefree, which is how every child should be. Yet, since that horrible day, he had nothing but burdens and his life took a drastic turn in a direction he never could have imagined.

And now, it culminated with him currently attending the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters and operating as a quasi-junior X-Man.

Nicole St. Croix glanced up from the game towards Michael, waved, and then broke away with Claudette in tow, advancing toward him. "Mikey!" she called as her sprint slowed. "I haven't seen you all week! How were your classes?"

Michael's frown faded as Nicole neared, his younger cousin's visibly jovial disposition obviously rubbing off on him. He was glad to see his younger cousin in a friendly mood, a stark contrast from her older sister, Monet. He didn't recall seeing her smile even once throughout the week, and her responses were usually cold and void of emotion. He still hadn't figured out what was wrong, but he overheard Jubilee talking about Monet's attitude when they tried to be nice to her.

He was also reminded how much Nicole and Claudette resembled their older sister. Actually, they were like two miniature versions of Monet—long, jet black hair; even complexion, beautiful smiles. They both could easily be child models, in much the same way Monet could have easily been a model.

Answering Nicole, he said, "They were pretty good, actually. The teachers were all friendly, and I think it's going to be a good semester. How about you?"

"Good! We had Dani as our teacher, and she was pretty nice. We're taking Science, Math, English, and Art. Claudette liked it as well," Nicole gushed. Her smile didn't fade even slightly as she spoke, revealing her genuine glee with her experience at the school.

Michael motioned to the other kids, who continued to laugh and run as if they didn't have a care in the world. "Looks like you guys are having fun," he stated, trying to hide his own dour mood.

"Of course we are. Even Claudette too!"

Michael regarded the St. Croix twins curiously. "So, how do you know Claudette is enjoying herself?"

"She told me, silly!"

Michael was puzzled. "But I thought she didn't speak?"

"She only talks to me," Nicole answered. "Through telepathy."

"Kind of like Jono. But only to you," Michael pondered over the situation for a moment. For all intents and purposes, Claudette was a mute, seemingly in a catatonic stupor. But there was something about the situation that bothered him. "Has she been like this all along?"

Nicole shook her head no, but then tilted her head as if someone was talking to her.

"Claudette said it's okay to tell you. She thinks it's important that you know."

A small knot of dread formed in Michael's stomach. After his own eventful afternoon, he wasn't sure that he could handle any more knowledge of circumstances surrounding him or his extended family. Especially since he presumed that whatever it was had to be related to Monet's strange behavior.

"Maybe now isn't the best time," Michael offered, hoping that he didn't sound like he wasn't interested.

Persistent, Nicole shook her head as if she refused Michael's answer. "Well, Claudette isn't usually wrong about these kinds of things. But are you okay?"

He respected how observant she was, despite his best attempts to conceal his feelings. He sighed and shrugged, "Yeah. I'm okay. I just—a lot happened over the past week. I don't think I'm ready for any more surprises or bad news."

Nicole's voice dropped to an ominous whisper as she leaned in close. "But Claudette has a bad feeling, and she really wants me to tell you everything. Mikey, I think our brother may be coming back."

Her tone made Michael uneasy, though initially, he wasn't quite sure why. "Your brother? Marius?" he asked.

"Yes. But he's bad. Real bad."

Michael wasn't sure he was ready for any more epic drama in his life, but at the same time, he couldn't ignore Nicole's warning. And there must have been some reason that she had come to him, and not Emma or Sean. Realizing that, Michael steadied himself and replied, "Nicole, tell me what's going on."

With that, Nicole took a breath and began to retell the events that tore the St. Croix family apart.

II.

Richard Cale was no stranger to the entity now known as Emplate. With the knowledge of arcane sorcery came the knowledge of otherworldly creatures, monsters, and demons. And Emplate fell into every category.

It had been quite a few years since Rich had even heard Emplate's name mentioned. He thought that maybe the monster stopped feeding, shriveled up, and died somewhere. The world would definitely be better off. Then again, Emplate wasn't just an entity all his own, rather a parasitic, somewhat ethereal creature that needed a host body to exist in the physical plane.

_Marius St. Croix,_ he reflected. Ambassador Cartier St. Croix's son, magically bound to Emplate, serving as the monster's current host. Though Emplate was a hideous monster, Rich couldn't destroy him, since doing so would mean killing Marius as well, which is why he resolved to figure out some way to separate the two. But that was easier said than done.

Rich's ancestors had heavy dealings with arcane sorcery, tied to their role as supernatural warriors. Magic spells, summonings, and other mystical feats were passed down from generation to generation to aid in the defeat of most demons. Coupled with his inherited mystical sword, made of an unbreakable adamantium alloy, and an eidetic memory, he knew that he had the potential to be the most powerful Cale of his entire lineage.

In addition, he inherited his father's company, Paladin Industries, a major financial stronghold in England. Mostly involved in manufacturing and construction, the business was huge success mostly because of its involvement in so many different projects around the country, as well as its charity work. Even now, the company continued to see positive growth under his leadership, though he was only sixteen.

Most people said he looked exactly like his father—dark, stern eyes; slender build; jet-black hair; and naturally tanned complexion. He was only two inches shorter than his six-foot father, and while the elder Cale had a close-cropped haircut, Rich's was a bit longer, though still neat in appearance. Despite what everyone else said, he didn't really see the resemblance. But then again, it had been two years since he had even laid eyes on a picture of his father and mother. His parents were gone. Murdered. Right there within their own home.

He was fortunate to have his cousin, Godiva Cale and her partner Kai Matougi, always at his side. Godiva was five years older than Cale and was his legal guardian, though Rich was self-sustaining enough not to need one. Working in the public relations department, she served as the public face and voice of Paladin Industries. Kai worked as a personal assistant and advisor to Rich, keeping his meeting schedule and business affairs in line, while offering sound advice when it was needed.

Though they were related, Godiva and Rich looked nothing alike. Her long, blond hair framed a slender face with sharp, but sensuous features. Dark eyes, full lips, and high cheekbones, coupled with a body curved in all the right places and long, toned legs, made her look more like a model than a public relations guru.

Kai leaned more towards the model look as well—light Japanese features, jet black shoulder-length hair, and an athletic frame. But behind her beautiful exterior was the heart of a skilled fighter, having mastered several martial arts and taken several years of gymnastics and dance. Though Kai could easily be Rich's bodyguard, he usually took care of most threats alone, though there were quite a few times her fighting ability came in handy.

Though not directly in the family business, Natasha Hamilton, Rich's adopted sister and only a year younger, assisted with administrative tasks when she wasn't at school. Energetic and studious, Tasha, as she liked to be called, enjoyed the more mundane, paperwork-oriented tasks Rich and Godiva shied away from, so her work was sincerely appreciated. Plus, her cheery attitude always managed to brighten the mood everyone around, which included the high school interns who tried desperately to grab her attention for more than just work.

Tasha dressed moderately but nicely, able to choose outfits and colors that suited her caramel complexion, violet eyes, and dark hair. But her conservative fashion sense didn't hide her developing figure and toned legs. Already having done some small modeling jobs, she had piqued the entire nation's interest and intrigue. But all the public saw was her physical looks—what they didn't know was that she had a hidden trait. She was a mutant.

Gifted with developing psychic powers, Tasha sensed future danger and trouble without fail, usually within hours of something actually happening. Her precognitive flashes were cryptic at times, shrouding the peril within dream-like landscapes. Recently, she had gotten much better at deciphering her visions and focusing intensely to create daydream-like flashes of the future. She shied away from using her powers any further than that and never really revealed why. But Rich never pried and allowed her to develop her abilities on her own timetable.

Quite often, Rich heard about how lucky he was to be surrounded by such gorgeous women. He accepted the compliments but refrained from encouraging or promoting any of the rather graphic fantasies some guys imagined and had the guts to actually reveal to him.

Lastly, there was his pet, Rimo. The size of a kitten and having wolf-like features, Rimo was thought by most to be some sort of exotic animal the Cale family adopted on many of their well-known, worldly, annual trips. There wasn't a time that Rimo wasn't at Rich's side, acting the part of a loyal pet. But Rimo wasn't just a pet—he acted as a protector, confidant, mentor, and psychic.

Possessing the ability to communicate telepathically with only Rich, Rimo shared with him a great deal of information regarding Rich's ancestry, as well as the intricacies of their extensive gnosis. But even after all this time, he wasn't really sure about Rimo's true origin. Though he directly asked countless times, Rimo simply found one way or another to evade or ignore Rich's inquiries, keeping an air of mystery about him.

Rich leaned back in the plush leather chair behind the large dark, oak desk. He took an audible deep breath, then let it out noisily, allowing the stresses of the day to be released with the expulsion. The chair swiveled noiselessly, and Rich found himself gazing over the business district of Corporon City from his twenty-ninth story window, watching the sun slowly dip behind the horizon as the night sky slowly took over.

Reflecting back on the day, he remembered Tasha's cryptic phone message from that morning, _"Rich, it's Tasha. I can't quite figure it out, but I keep seeing a face, split in two. One is a horrific, scarred monster, and the other half is a guy I've never seen before. But the faces keep melting together then separating. It's really weird. Anyways, I'm heading to the library then I'll be home. Kai's making dinner, so I'll make sure not to be late!"_

He meant to call her back earlier, but meetings kept him busy for most of the afternoon. He glanced at the gold framed clock above the door—sixteen minutes after six. There was no sense in calling her now as she was probably already in the library with her cell phone turned off. Rich figured he would simply wait until dinner to talk to her. But the more he dwelled on her message, the more uneasy he became.

_Emplate...Marius,_ Rich pondered, threading together his recent conversations with Cartier and Tasha's visions. He couldn't help but to draw an uneasy connection between the circumstances. But before could think about it any more, the sharp ring of the desk phone cut into his thoughts.

"Paladin Industries. This is Cale," he routinely stated, again forgetting to glance at the caller ID screen.

"My, my, Rich," the unexpected friendliness of the baritone voice caught Rich off-guard. And the man on the other end chuckled as if he sensed it. "You sound much more comfortable with that than the last time we spoke. This is Cartier St. Croix."

_Cartier? Emplate? Marius? Tasha's warning?_ There were way too many signs for Rich to ignore the obvious. He paused for only a beat, but he felt as if the uncomfortable silence had lasted an eternity. "Cartier. I—I didn't expect you to call tonight. What's the occasion?" He stumbled over his first few words and couldn't keep his trepidation well-hidden.

"There doesn't have to be an occasion for me to call. I've just been extremely busy and realized that I hadn't checked up on you in quite some time."

_He's making small talk, _Rich deduced. Not really feeling like beating around the bush, Rich asked, "Is there some kind of trouble?"

"Always so straight-forward," Cartier mused with a sincere chuckle. "No. Nothing. And that's what worries me. I called my daughters, and they seemed to be just fine. I just have an uneasy feeling."

Rich decided against mentioning Tasha's vision, and instead tried to assuage his concerns. "I think everyone's on edge right now. Maybe we're just worrying ourselves. If anything, we should be thankful that everything's peaceful and quiet. But Cartier, is this about Emplate?"

Cartier thought about revealing his own concerns, but then decided not to worry the young man. "Ah, it's just the shaky nerves of an old man. Maybe I'm just jittery over seeing my daughters. I'm planning on flying out tomorrow morning for a surprise visit."

"Really? Why now?" Rich inquired. He didn't want his questions to come off too strong, as he didn't want to give Cartier any reason to ask any more questions. Or suspect Rich wasn't being forthcoming.

"I've got a lull in my work here, so I can spare the time. Plus, it's been awhile since I've seen them."

Rich thought about the coincidence of Tasha's vision and Cartier's sudden decision to meet his daughters. If anything, it seems much too happenstance that all the St. Croixs were potentially in one location. And if Tasha's vision was indeed related to Emplate, the wheels of fate were already turning in an unfavorable fashion.

Without thinking, he offered, "Cartier, you've spoken very highly Xavier's. I'd like to join you on your trip to the States."

Cartier chuckled, pleasantly surprised at the offer. "That would be excellent! It's been over a year since I last saw you, Richard. Alas, I've already secured my personal jet for travel, so I won't arrive until early Saturday morning."

Rich grabbed his touch-screen cell phone, maneuvered through a few screens with his index finger, and frowned at the results. "I can get a flight that arrives Saturday morning, but I'll get there before you. The next flight doesn't arrive until Monday."

"That's should work out just fine then, eh? You sound as though you need some rest before your flight, so I'll let you go."

Rich, glad that Cartier mistook his apprehension for fatigue, responded, "Thanks for the concern. I think I shall get to bed a bit early tonight. I look forward to meeting you and finally seeing the fabled Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. Goodnight, Cartier."

"Sleep soundly. We'll catch up in the States."

Rich hung up the phone, his stomach in knots over the entire situation. In a matter of minutes, Tasha's vision relating to Emplate turned from an obscure dream to a highly probable event. And on top of all that, Rich agreed to meet Cartier, potentially embroiling himself right in the middle of whatever was unfolding. Though he wanted to save Marius and defeat Emplate, he wanted to do it on his own terms, under his control. Already, it seemed that Rich was being pulled by the strings of some invisible force way greater than any of them.

A dull headache settling in, Rich gathered his belongings and locked his office. He headed home with the suspicion that something terrible was in store for both him and Cartier.

III.

"Claudette wasn't always like this," Nicole started, taking a seat next to Michael on the steps, followed closely behind by Claudette. After a contemplative deep breath, she continued, "Claudette and I were always amazed by Monet and Marius. They seemed so grown-up and smart. But we weren't always able to see Monet, and Marius was gone a lot. Our parents were always really busy, but they tried to make time to talk and play with us. We always thought that they liked Monet better because they were always concerned about her and talked about her a lot."

"Nicole, you know that wasn't true," Michael softly interjected.

She nodded affirmatively. "Yeah. Now we know that, but back then, we didn't. One day, out father came to us and told us that Marius had gone on a trip. And that he would be gone for a long time. But only a few nights after that, we saw Marius. But he—he wasn't the same."

Michael felt a little apprehensive about the rest of the story. "I don't understand. What happened to him?"

"We really don't know," her light brown eyes stared off into the distance, as if she was still searching for the answer. "When he appeared that night, Claudette telepathically felt him, but she said that there was something else there too. Something scary. We decided to split up to find our mother and Monet. I found Monet and told her, but before we could find Mother and Claudette, Marius...he—"

Michael sensed her hesitation, feeling that the climax to Nicole's story held some terrible revelation. And he didn't want her or Claudette to have to face it again. Though he really didn't know them, they were family, and he felt an almost instinctive need to protect them. He interjected, "Nicole, you don't have to go on—"

She shook her head, determined to finish, though her mouth felt dry and her heart beat just a little faster. Nicole took another deep breath, steadied herself, and then continued, "Marius found our mother first. When Claudette found the both of them, she saw him—Emplate—kill our mother. Right in front of her. When she saw what happened, she screamed, unknowingly projecting the scene into our minds. And our father's."

"Nicole, I'm sorry," Michael offered, suddenly stricken solemn. He kept his telepathic abilities at bay, knowing that he could easily glimpse into Nicole's mind and relive every moment she spoke of and feel every emotion they had. Even though he didn't do that, he still felt a cold despair creeping over him, knowing that one of his distant family members had been murdered, potentially by another family member.

For a moment, Michael wished that somehow, he would have been there. Maybe he would have been able to change things, stop Emplate, and save their mother. Though powerful, he knew changing the events of the past was near impossible and even still held dire consequences in doing so. Saving their mother may have caused the death of Monet or something more detrimental, which could have torn Generation X apart even before they were formed.

Instead, he thought back to Nicole's story, but then stopped on a key point that he missed. "Nicole, I—I'm confused. It seems like Marius and Emplate aren't the same person."

Her brown eyes still stared off into the horizon. "They are. But Claudette felt two different entities there, even though there was only one person."

"So you're saying Marius is possessed?"

"Maybe. We've been lucky that we haven't seen him again. And we haven't brought it up with Monet or Father. I guess we're just scared to know what really happened to our brother."

"If he is possessed, maybe there's a way to free him. There has to be."

"If that's the case, then I hope you're right. That night, Emplate left. And when Claudette woke up, she was like this. She didn't talk to anyone but me. After that, Father didn't talk much and spent a lot of time in his study when he wasn't at work. The only one that could talk to him was Monet. And that's why we thought he loved her more. A few nights after that, Emplate came back. This time for Monet. She fought back, but during the fight, something happened."

"What happened?" Michael asked, hanging onto every word.

Surprising the twins and Michael, Monet sat next to them, her own eyes gazing off into the horizon, same as Nicole.

Michael noted how identical all three were—if anything, Monet looked like nothing more than an older version of the twins, which struck him as uncanny. Though they were siblings, there should have been some physical genetic differences about them. But then again, that could have been the reason that the twins were able to flawlessly masquerade as Monet, considering their unnaturally identical traits.

Adding to the story, Monet said, "When Emplate attempted to feed on me, he didn't fully comprehend the effects of feeding on someone who possessed a latent ability for power absorption. It caused a physical backlash, and just as a survival instinct, my power kicked in. Of course, I couldn't control it, so in the single moment that he touched me, I absorbed the powers of the many mutants who he had managed to feed from in the past. Including you. The transfer overloaded my ability and basically shut it down. Permanently."

Suddenly, Monet's possession of a myriad of powers made total sense. And Emplate possessing Michael's powers fell in line with his horrible experience at the hands of Emplate.

"Using my new powers, I fought him off and nearly escaped. But the appearance of Penance distracted me, and he used some sort of magic to imprison my body within her. A part of my mind remained trapped as well. But my sisters managed to save a portion of my psyche and created a body to house it by merging."

Summing up Monet's story, Michael restated, "So Emplate escaped with Yvette and a part of your mind, while the other part surfaced in the Monet created by the twins. But because there were three minds there, it probably became harder and harder to contain."

Nicole nodded, taking over the story once again. "When we were attacked, it was just too much, and everything fell apart."

Monet then added, "You see, our past is dark and complicated. And if we don't locate Emplate now, the future will be the same. This isn't just about us."

"Isn't there a way to save your brother?" Michael inquired to Monet.

"Our father is trying to discover some method to help him in that regard. But I fear that our brother is long gone. That monster has managed to attack us at our weakest moments. I cannot allow it again!" Monet clenched her fist as she spoke, her normally cavalier expression contorted into genuine anger, which surprised the twins and Michael. But as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, and she stood.

Before Michael could ask any more questions, a grinning Rico bolted through the door. "Hey, Vinnie and Ethan are playing one-on-one b-ball in the gym! You guys probably want to see this!"

"Yeah, sure. We'll be there in a sec," Michael absently replied as Rico left as abruptly as he appeared, surely to recruit every other student as spectators.

Still pondering the information overload, he couldn't believe that he had learned so many things about himself and the St. Croix family in such little time. A slight headache formed from his constant mulling over the Phoenix fragment, his cousins, and Emplate.

Monet glanced down the bridge of her nose at him. "It will do you no good to decipher and dissect what you have learned over the past two days. Keep it in your mind—you'll need it sooner than you think." With that, she walked away, leaving Michael with the twins.

"She's not really the sympathetic type, is she?" Michael rhetorically asked.

"Nope!" Nicole cheerfully said as she and Claudette got to their feet. "But we are!" she leaned down and hugged him, and Claudette followed suit. Michael smiled warmly, and for the first time, felt a familial connection with the St. Croixs. Maybe, just maybe, he'd make the same connection with Monet.

IV.

Vincent Sellenger narrowed his piercing, icy eyes at Ethan Callaghan. He quickly rubbed the back of his hand across his forehead, barely moving his sweaty bangs. He took a deep breath, knowing that the next few moments would be the most defining and critical. His lips a thin line of concentration, Vincent let the basketball fly from his hands—it bounced on the court once before landing in Ethan's grip. "Check," he shouted, before the ball was returned, Ethan wiping sweat from his own brow.

The ball barely touched Vincent's hands before he broke into a sprint, dribbling the basketball with ease and maneuvering around Ethan with a finesse that seemed uncharacteristic of the brash, young man. Ethan attempted a counter step to block Vincent, but missed sorely as the redhead leaped in the air with a perfect layup.

"Dude, could ya at least like pretend like you're gonna stop him?!" Jubilation Lee shouted from her spot in the bench, popcorn flying as she waved her hands frantically.

"Could ya at least not shout right in my ear, chica?" Angelo Espinosa cringed from the bleacher row in front of and below Jubilee.

"It's not like super-fan here is going to listen," Michael Lawson commented as he concentrated on keeping the falling popcorn floating in the air right above his head.

For the past hour, the members of Generation X were all gathered in the gym, watching a heated match between Ethan and Vincent. Most rooted for Ethan, though Vincent seemed to be dominating the game. They had long since changed out of their training uniforms, back into normal clothes, taking on the appearance of a seemingly normal gaggle of students.

"Are we like even totally watchin' tha same game?! Vincent's not tha crowd fave! We're rootin' fer Ethan. And he's like gettin' his butt kicked all over tha place!"

Everett smiled, gently taking the popcorn out of Jubilee's hand and helping himself to a handful. "Jubes, you're getting way into this. They're both our friends."

"Like fer reals? Vincent totally hates everyone. Especially ol' Mikey here. Ya may think yer friends with him, but like he's not friends with ya. He'd probably set yer shoes on fire or somethin' totally heinous like that. Ya know?"

Kiana shook her head. "He's not that bad. He has anger issues and some kind of animosity against Mike, but he does care. I think deep down, he likes being here."

"Jubilee has a point—I think he'd like it better if I wasn't here too. Probably not even on the same planet."

"Like what is tha deal with tha two of ya anyways?"

"I really don't know. Maybe there's something that I don't remember..." but before Michael could think about it more, he saw Vincent make one final three-point shot.

"I think that's game, Vince," Ethan smiled, despite his huge loss. Vincent grinned back in response, a rare expression that most didn't get to see. After giving each other a high-five, they made their way over to the bleachers, wiping sweat from their brows.

"Hey, that was a good game, guys," Vanessa reassured Ethan, as she passed him a towel and a bottled water.

"Playing without powers is pretty tough," Ethan said. His powers of enhanced strength, speed, and senses would have given him a clear advantage, but without, he was like any other teenager. Though athletic, he found that Vincent ran circles around him whenever they played.

"So the object of this barbaric game is to throw that round object into the floating hoop?" Gaia asked, pointing at the basketball goal.

Kiana pondered for a moment, then answered, "Well, when you put it that way, it doesn't sound very appealing."

Gaia crossed her arms in resolution. "Then my initial impression was correct—this game is awful!"

"You should try it, Gaia," Everett offered. "Here, I'll show you a few moves."

"Oh the woes of the gods!" Gaia's hand touched her heart as her eyes fluttered. "Ethan's filthy hands touched that ball. My delicate hands shan't go near!"

"Umm...I thought you were done talking like that," Michael said.

Ethan's jaw dropped. "Wait, Gaia. I thought we were friends and past this."

"We are," she said. "Our relationship non-withstanding, the fact that your sweaty palms molested the ball hath not dissipated."

"Whoa! TMI!" Angelo shouted in mock horror.

Rico looked appalled. "Ethan, man. I know you don't have a girlfriend and all, but—"

Jubilee gave Paige a nudge and a wink. Embarrassed again, Paige wiggled out of her reach but didn't respond. At least she didn't have to worry about Jono staring at her uneasiness. He claimed that he had to study, so he didn't come down to the game, much to her relief. If he had come for some odd reason, Paige would have concocted some excuse for being absent.

Ethan's cheeks reddened as he tried to desperately defend himself. "Wait a minute! You use that word way too freely, Gaia!"

Gaia said, "Well, it does accurately describe what you were doing. Your hands—"

"Let's not go down that road," Michael said with an eye roll. He thought for sure that the two of them had panned out their differences when Ethan saved her at the Arminthorpe Corporation. But obviously, there was still something there.

Kiana changed the subject. "Well, since you guys are done with your game, let's go see Ms. Frost about the kidnappings."

"Kidnappings?" Michael repeated.

Rico nodded. "Yeah, we found out about them earlier today. I pulled together some info, but I needed to get my head around everything before we went to Ms. Frost. That's why we came to watch these two molest the basketball. Three mutants have been kidnapped over the past day or so. The police are on it, but Kiana thinks there's more to it."

"Guys, like when yer in this business, there's like always more to it," Jubilee said.

"She's right. What did you find out so far?" Everett asked.

Rico explained, "Jason Tate, Craig Taylor, and Tyler Sullivan—gone. I don't think the police have any leads. But Kiana thinks there's a connection between the kidnappings and some kind of magic business."

"I just don't think we can rule it out, especially since all three of them control some sort of elemental power," Kiana clarified.

"You're right. If we don't have anything to go on, we have to start somewhere. You think we can help?" Ev asked.

"Well," Rico answered, "we hope Ms. Frost will at least let us talk to Chief Authier. Maybe we can put our heads together to figure out where they are."

"I have a bad feeling about this," Michael ominously said, feeling that the events he had just experienced were a precursor to something worse.

Interrupting the conversation, Dr. Cecelia Reyes came over the intercom. "Paging Monet St. Croix. Please report to the living room for a phone call."

Monet glanced up from the hardback novel in her hands, surprised at hearing her name. As she looked around, she realized the game was over, but to her, it didn't seem that much time has passed at all. Her eyes fell to her book, and she realized that it still remained on the same page from when she initially opened it. She remembered that something similar had happened quite a few weeks ago, but back then, she didn't have the opportunity to address it. Now, her concern turned to worry, she noted that she would mention it to Dr. McCoy.

She placed her feet gently on the ground from her seated, floating lotus position. With her book in hand, she took flight towards the Danger Room doors and didn't set her feet back on the ground until she reached the phone in the living room.

"This is Monet St. Croix."

"Monet, it's so good to hear your voice."

"Father?"  
Cartier chuckled. "Yes. And I'm sorry I didn't call sooner. Things have been incredibly busy here. How have you been?"

Her worry completely forgotten, Monet smiled as she spoke. "Between these inferior classes and some of my annoying teammates, I sometimes wish for a change of scenery."

"I know you well enough to recognize that's code for you really like that place and your friends."

Monet laughed, finding truth in her father's words. "Father, is everything okay?"

"Yes, why do you ask?"

She thought about revealing her mysterious zoning out, but thought better of it. The last thing she wanted to do was worry him. "Simply put, there are times that I worry about your well-being too. And there's something else I should inform you—Michael Lawson has taken up residence at the school."

"Mikey? It's been years since I last saw him. Actually, it was before Marius—"

"Yes, I know. I'm able to tolerate his presence, in case you were wondering."

"That's right. You really didn't get the chance to meet when you were younger. And you never were too warm around any of our relatives. I can't believe that both of you are there. Give him my regards." After a pause, he asked, "Does he know?"

"Yes. I told him about Emplate, and his relevance to our family. He's dealing with a few issues of his own as well. Father, just be careful. I have a bad feeling."

"There's nothing going on here but the stresses that come along with being an ambassador. Are you sure there's nothing wrong? You sound worried, which is quite uncharacteristic for you."

Monet hesitated. "Truth be told, I'm not sure, but—"

Before Monet could continue, Nicole and Claudette entered through the front door, followed by a rowdy Franklin, Artie, and Leech. The kids all had huge smiles on their faces, still riding high from whatever game they had just finished.

"Actually, Nicole and Claudette just came in. I'll let you catch up with them."

Upon hearing that, Nicole's eyes lit up. "Is Dad on the phone?"

Monet smiled and nodded. "I love you," she said before handing the phone over to Nicole.

Nicole happily grabbed the phone and began chatting about school, Claudette, and the other students. Monet smiled as she watched her sister, but then her eyes wandered to Claudette, who stood numbly at her sister's side.

Monet wished that there was something she could do to heal Claudette's mind, but no matter how she tried to communicate with her, it was near impossible. The only one that seemed to be able to get through was Nicole. She hadn't told anyone but Michael the situation surrounding Claudette's condition, but she considered telling Professor Xavier about it directly. If anyone could help, it would be him.

She turned to walk away, when a wave of dizziness hit her. Surprised, Monet brought her hand to her temple and attempted to massage away the vertigo. It was at that moment, she came to a horrible realization, and suddenly, her trepidation made sense. She made her way up to her room, and without thinking twice, she opened the doors to her balcony and took flight into the morning sky.

V.

Cartier St. Croix ended the call, his eyes remaining on the phone as he thought about his family, as he had many times since he had allowed Monet and the twins to stay at Xavier's. He missed them dearly, but he knew that they were safer there than with him. Marius—no, Emplate was out there, and there was no doubt that he would be after the three of them soon.

But, Cartier didn't expect for Michael Lawson, his nephew, to be there as well. His half-brother and he didn't have that close of a relationship, and Cartier could barely remember the last time they had spoken.

Focusing, Cartier turned his attention back to the documents on his cluttered desk. He sighed and leaned back in his leather chair, taking a deep breath before delving back into the policy.

Not even a minute had passed before Cartier felt a mysterious shift in the air. It was subtle and under normal circumstances, he would have brushed the feeling off. But lately, a foreboding feeling plagued him, growing stronger every day. Though he couldn't precisely pinpoint why, Cartier suspected that it had something to do with Emplate. And maybe Monet's worry wasn't as misplaced as Cartier made it seem.

He stood and crossed his expansive office, glancing around as he made his way toward the door. Nothing seemed out of place with the mahogany meeting table and Smartboard at the opposite end of the office. The earth-hued drapes were all pulled back and hadn't been moved since that morning, and with Cartier being on the tenth floor of his building, there was no way someone would have broken into the office through the window. Everything was in its proper place, and as it should have been.

But he still felt uneasy.

He wasn't a jumpy man by any means. Cartier had seen many things in his day, and his position as an ambassador didn't really allow him the option of jumping to conclusions or having any type of outward doubt or fear. But right now, he could feel his tension level rising, and he suddenly second-guessed his safety.

He opened the door, taking a quick glance at his secretary's desk. Empty. She had gone home probably an hour ago, which is really what Cartier should have done. But there was paperwork that needed to be done, and with his trip, Cartier didn't want to fall behind.

He took a deep breath, shaking his head in spite of himself. _Everyone's being jumpy, including you_, Cartier chastised himself before closing his office door.

"Hello, Father," a raspy voice called from behind Cartier.

The older gentleman spun around, then stepped back as a pair of blood-red eyes stared back at him. "Emplate," Cartier said in disgust. "What in God's name are you doing here?"

"Now, now. Is that any way to greet your son?"

"Blasphemy! You are not my son! You stole him away years ago! You have no right to even refer to yourself as such. Stifle your shameful banter and be gone, monster!"

Emplate let out a low, gravelly chuckle. "Not so fast, old man. It's time for me to finish what I started. And that's to destroy you and your family!"

"You will stay away from my family!" Cartier's hand flashed amber before he pointed his fist and shot forth a blast of magical energy. But he cursed as the beam sailed right through Emplate, who had partially phased. The attack struck the opposite wall, leaving a sizable dent and burn marks.

"An impressive attack, old man. But you're getting slow."

Before Cartier could react, Emplate lunged and snaked his claws around his shoulders. Cartier attempted to pull away, but Emplate's icy grasp was too strong, and the mouths on Emplate's hands latched onto his flesh, piercing through Cartier's dress shirt. He held back a painful yell as warm blood stained his shirt, and Cartier could feel his strength leaving his body. "Let me go," Cartier weakly commanded, still holding onto the hope that something inside Emplate still recognized him and would obey. But Emplate's grasp only tightened, and Cartier couldn't muster any more strength to repel the creature.

Emplate returned with a throaty, triumphant chuckle. "Not until I've drained every ounce of marrow from your body."

"No, you'll let him go now," a voice called. Without waiting for a response, a laser pulse whizzed through the air and would have struck Emplate in the head if the monster hadn't thrown Cartier to the side and dodged. Emplate faced his opponent, noticing the laser pulse had actually torn a hole in his shoulder.

"Stand down, Emplate!" Lucas Bishop commanded as he kept his energy blaster aimed at Emplate. "I won't tell you again."

Cartier turned slightly to see the X-Man known as Bishop standing on the far side of the office. Bishop stood poised with an almost comically huge gun in one hand, still pointed at Emplate. His natural frown only deepened as his eyes feel to Cartier then flicked back to Emplate.

"Ah, Bishop," Emplate began, sweetening his voice only a bit. "I would say it's nice seeing you again, but you just blew a damn hole in my shoulder."

"I can make it your face. Step back from Cartier, and tell me what the hell are you're doing here."

Emplate released Cartier, and the older man slid down the closed door, weak and disoriented. "This is family business, Bishop. You aren't a part of it. Besides, these pitiful St. Croixs will be thankful for what I'm planning to do. Let's just say, when I'm through, I won't need this frail human host. With that, I'll take my leave for now, but I guarantee we'll be seeing each other again, quite soon."

Bishop fired off another shot, but Emplate's figure had already phased out of synch with the current dimension, and in the next second, he was gone.

"Dammit," Bishop cursed. Stowing his weapon in a leg holster, he ran to Cartier's side. "Are you okay? Can you stand?"

Cartier, reluctantly accepting Bishop's help, got to his feet, and steadied himself against the door. "Yes, yes. I'm fine. Thank you for your rather timely intervention. Please don't think of me as ungrateful, but what are you doing here? How did you know that something was wrong?" he asked, looking into the face of the man known as Bishop. He particularly noticed the "M" tattooed across his eye.

"I didn't. He did," Bishop pointed to the presumed mute Aborigine, known simply as Gateway, sitting lotus style on the opposite side of the office. His eyes closed in meditation, he said nothing to acknowledge his presence.

"Gateway," Cartier whispered, genuinely surprised. It had been quite some time since he had seen the mysterious portal traveler, but his presence always seemed to coincide with trouble. And this time was no different. To Bishop, he said, "Well, I owe both of you my sincerest gratitude. If you hadn't gotten here when you did, I don't know what Emplate would have done to me. But he seemed vicious, and his last statement—" his trailed off as if he was thinking aloud to himself. He pondered over something for only a minute before stating, "You have questions. I don't know that I have all the answers, but I can tell you what I know."

Not wasting any time, Bishop stated, "Let's start with Emplate."

Cartier let out a burdened sigh and rubbed his tender arm though his shirt. "I honestly don't know why he was here. This barbaric attack was out of the blue. He—he's never been so brazen before. Bishop, I fear he's planning something. If he has discovered a method to unbind himself from Marius, we don't have much time to stop him. There's only one spell I know of, using the combined elements as a magical catalyst to counteract the binding spell. But if he uses it, he'll empower himself tenfold."

"This is news to me, Cartier. I always thought Emplate and Marius were one in the same. From the way you make it sound, your son is nothing more than an unwilling host for something else. And something tells me that either you or someone you know was responsible for making that happen."

"The past is of no consequence," Cartier dodged, his voice edged with agitation.

Bishop's frown deepened, both because of Cartier's evasion and the implications of Emplate's true nature. From a distant future timeline, Bishop was all too familiar with Emplates, a trouble-causing group afflicted with some kind of vampire-like abilities. Then, Bishop didn't know the origin of those creatures, but after his first run-in with Emplate, he knew that somehow, the singular monster was somehow responsible for those creatures in the future.

And now, Bishop had the chance to stop it from happening at all, which could save his sister's life.

"Fine. How do we stop him?" Bishop asked.

Still weak, Cartier barely shook his head. "I don't know. But I have a feeling we don't have much time."

"Then come with us. We—"

"Nonsense," Cartier quickly objected. "I have a flight waiting for me. I haven't seen my daughters in ages. And I'm also meeting an old friend's son at the airport. His family has history with sorcery—he may be able to share some knowledge that would help. Trust me, I'll be fine."

"Those are usually fateful last words," Bishop warned.

"Come now. You X-Men tend to be smothering."

Annoyed at Cartier's seemingly cavalier attitude, Bishop tried to reason with him. "If Emplate attacked you here, there's a significant chance that he'll try to finish what he started, regardless of who's around."

"Don't worry. I'll be on my guard. But if we go fully defensive now, we may miss something important to Emplate's plan."

Bishop didn't like Cartier's perspective at all. If anything, he was unnecessarily endangering himself and anyone else around him. Not to mention his family in Snow Valley. If anything, Monet St. Croix was probably on Emplate's hit list as well. "I have to let the Professor, Emma, and Sean know," he stated, hoping Cartier didn't put up another fight.

"Yes, yes. Of course," Cartier agreed hastily. "I expect you to. But please, do not alert my daughters. Or nephew."

"Nephew?"

"Michael Lawson. He's my half-brother's son."

"As long as they're at the school, they're reasonably safe for the time being. But we can't waste any time, especially if Emplate's planning something. I'm here to stop my future from happening, and if this is where Emplate makes his move to create an army of soulless beings like him, I plan on being there to stop him. Permanently."

"It will take a lot more than a big gun to stop him. Emplate is powerful, even within the body of Marius. If separated, he would be near unstoppable."

Bishop noted the gravity of Cartier's words and knew that this was the series of events that lead to the dominance of Emplates in his own future. And though he had traveled to the past in order to change the future, deep down, he feared that he was too late.

Notes

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional

Richard Cale, Godiva Cale, Kai Matougi, and Rimo are all based on characters created by Richard Sampson, who has stories posted as well

Aotrs Commander – Hey, don't worry about taking a long time to read and review! I tend to take a long time to post. I mull over these chapters like you wouldn't believe. Not to mention work, school, and the gym taking up quite a bit of time.

Anyhow, you'll definitely get your fill of Emplate over the next several chapters. This will probably be the most epic Emplate story that you will see anywhere! And yeah, he's definitely under-used since Gen X ended. He targeted the X-Men recently, but he hasn't shown back up on Monet's doorstep, which is a surprise. I really thought they could have done more with him even in Gen X. So, I decided to go a little deeper and create quite the adventure for the kids of X.

And you'll be seeing quite a bit of the X-Men in this storyline. It's how I justify keeping this story in the X-Men category instead of the Generation X category.

And yeah, I'm trying to keep the characters from keeping angst-like secrets from the rest of the team. It's so cliché these days, and it always leads to ruin, just like you said.

Thanks for staying on the ride for this long…I promise, it gets better!


	34. Emplate's Revenge, Part 2

I.

Only minutes ago, three of Emma Frost's students—Kiana Asahara, Vincent Sellenger, and Rico Vidal—presented their hypothesis regarding a sudden rash of kidnappings. She listened carefully to their combined theory, but said nothing to argue against it, waiting until they were done before saying anything.

As usual, Sean Cassidy joined her, leaning with one shoulder propped against a tall bookcase, a casual contrast to Emma's rather intimidating, stern aura. The alarming news stunned him, but he kept his expression neutral as he listened to the details.

Kiana and Rico sat together on the couch opposite the desk, the explanation of events and theories bouncing between the two of them. Vincent had spun around a chair and sat with his chin resting on the back, remaining quiet with an occasional nod or grunt of agreement.

"So, there have been three abductions over the past twenty-four hours. And you suspect that whoever is behind the kidnappings has targeted mutants with element-based powers," Emma summarized from behind her wide oak desk. Her full lips were drawn into a tight, pensive frown as her blue eyes continually scanned the three students.

"Yes, ma'am," Kiana answered. She brushed her black hair behind her ear before continuing. "I don't know that the police would realize the connection, which is why we have to hurry. If we can get this information to them and help them find the missing teens, we can disrupt whatever plan the kidnapper has."

Finally breaking into the conversation, Sean asked with a frown, "Supposin' we are dealin' wit' a spell caster, could it be linked t' th' girl ye fought, Mina Laroché?"

"Honestly," she responded, "she's one of the first people that came to my mind. But she's probably working for Arminthorpe, and this really isn't their style."

He thoughtfully rubbed the red stubble on his chin. "There's a chance that th' abductions are nae related. But my gut tells me that yuir right in suspectin' they are. Ah'm not familiar wit' any other magic-users who would resort t' kidnappin'. And though yuir theory makes sense, though there's no substantial proof."

Kiana stole a glance at Rico and Vincent, her expression showing her concern. He was right—they didn't have any proof, only her observation, which could have been totally wrong. But then again, it was just too coincidental for them to overlook just because they had no evidence to prove it. She gave Rico a short nod, signaling him to take the lead on answering.

He knew that this was their chance to show that they could be responsible and use their powers to help, instead of staying confined within the walls of the school. Only a moment passed before he answered, "Look, we totally understand that you guys don't want us in the superhero business. We get that. We think that if we present our perspective to the police, maybe they'll approach this from an angle that they hadn't considered. And I think that we can help them significantly. Since Mikey knows Chief Authier, we could just go directly to him with what we know so far. I know he'll listen." He finished then held his breath, waiting for either Emma or Sean to reply.

Emma kept her expression neutral as she telepathically spoke to Sean. _"I understand how they feel, really I do. But it's not about feelings—if mutants are in danger, they could be putting themselves right in the middle of it."_

_ "If mutants being targeted, we're already in th' middle o' it. It may not have anythin' t' do wit' magic, but Ah can't discount some o' our past enemies possibly bein' behind this. Or enemies of the X-Men."_

_ "Or it could be some upstart trying to make a name for himself in the vein of the rather notorious mutant criminals already in existence. As if he had nothing better to do with his time."_

_ "Ah'll take 'em t' th' police. Th' lads are right—somethin' else is behind this, an' th' police may not be able t' handle it on their own."_ After his silent reply, Sean cast a glance towards her, and she returned with an almost unnoticeable nod of approval, surprising him.

He checked his watch, noting the late afternoon time, but figured the police, especially Chief Authier, would still be on duty because of the kidnappings. Aloud, he said, "Gather up yuir info, and we'll head t' th' police station. It's always better t' deal wit' something like this face-t'-face. We'll propose an offer t' help, but remember, we're doin' this on their terms."

"What if they say no?" Vincent asked.

Emma sat back in her chair, a suspicious smile crossing her lips. "I have ways of persuading them," she paused immediately afterward, finding everyone's expression of disbelief humorous. "I'm just kidding. Relax. We can't act outside of the law, and at the end of the day, this is a school. You're not junior X-Men running to save the world at every given turn. But I'm not against lending assistance to the locals every now and again. Especially for something as out of the ordinary as this. If they chose not to use us as a resource, then so be it."

"Hey," Rico interjected. "I told Vinnie here that I would take him to the vitamin store on the other side of town. He got a call to pick up some protein and other musclehead junk he ordered. Kiana's got most of the info, so she can just go with you guys. And that makes room for Mikey to go along. Since you're going to see Chief Authier an all, it makes sense. Get some fresh air, you know?"

Sean nodded in agreement. "Aye. Tis very considerate o' ye given what th' lad's been through. Ye can take m' jeep. But no joyridn'. Ah'm takin' the X5."

"Keys," Emma said as she tossed them across the room. "Just be careful."

"Ach, woman. Ye worry too much!" he replied with a reassuring smile.

Her worry only slightly dampened, she watched as Sean and the teens left, hoping that the kidnappings were nothing more than some attention-starved brats making a statement by hiding out. She prayed they were safe at a friend's house, and everything was just fine. But she instinctively knew that serious trouble was brewing—she just didn't realize that the trouble had already started, and there wasn't anything they could do to stop it.

II.

For the past few hours, Tasha Hamilton internally debated whether to make a call or simply abstain from interfering. But knowing what she knew about visions, there wasn't really anything that could be done to stop them, since the decisions made, right or wrong, would inevitably lead to an unchanged outcome.

But still, if there was something—anything—she could do to possibly save Cartier St. Croix, what choice did she really have?

She pulled out her sleek Samsung phone and after a few button presses, listened while the phone rang on the other end. She tapped her foot nervously, and as the phone rang for the fourth time, uncertainty festered. Maybe she was already too late. Maybe she had the wrong number. Maybe—

"Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. Everett Thomas speaking."

Tasha gasped, surprised that someone finally picked up the phone. The firmness of the baritone voice on the other pushed away her doubt for the moment. She took a deep breath then responded, "Umm. Hi. Sorry, for calling like this. My name is Tasha Hamilton." She paused, unsure of what to say next. "I—I need to talk to someone about something important."

He held back an amused snicker at the rather ambiguous statement. "Well, if you tell me what's wrong, I think we can figure out who you need to talk to."

"I hate to mention this over the phone, but my brother, Rich Cale, and Ambassador St. Croix are heading to Snow Valley. I'm absolutely sure that the Ambassador's in terrible danger."

His levity evaporated instantaneously. "Danger? From who?"

"Someone named Emplate."

"Emplate?" Everett repeated, as his stomach dropped and head spun.

A chill shot up his spine as he remembered the creature claws reaching for him, the excruciating pain of being drained, and then the thick fog of confusion as Emplate forced his will onto him. Helpless, he was a slave replica of Emplate, searching for more mutants to feed on, his body and personal volition focused on self-survival. During this pursuit of nourishment, he nearly hurt his family and friends, only breaking free due to the timely intervention of Monet.

Simply hearing Emplate's name brought those terrible memories to the surface. But his dread slowly morphed into anger, as the events replayed though his mind. He would be damned if anyone else would suffer the same circumstances as he did at the hands of Emplate.

"Yes," Tasha answered. "Rich decided to travel to Snow Valley to protect Cartier. But he's going to need your help. I—I'm sorry. I don't have any more information. All I know is that the only people that can save Cartier and deal with Emplate are people associated with an X."

"We know Emplate far too well. You made the right choice—we can help."

Her heart fluttered and a feeling of relief washed over her. "Thank goodness. But I don't quite understand the X. You're not the X-Men."

"Nope. We're the next best thing. Generation X."

"Cute name," she lightheartedly replied. "Listen, Rich is kind of…well…he can come off as…standoffish. But he's going to need your help. I'm scared that things may already be past the point of no return."

Everett understood and partially shared her concern. If Emplate was already on the move, they had very limited time to decipher their enemy's ultimate intent. Already, his mind raced through possible options and outcomes. And none of them seemed to have the happy-ever-after ending.

"Listen, Tasha," he said with more confidence than he felt, "we'll meet the Ambassador and Rich at the airport, and get them back here so we can figure out what's going on. If you think of anything, just call back, okay?"

"Okay. Please be careful. And take care of Cartier. And Rich."

"We will," Everett said before hanging up the phone, hoping he hadn't made a promise he couldn't keep. "Paige, can you—"

"Already on it, Ev," she replied. Her nimble fingers flew across the laptop keyboard, and after a few moments of scanning the softly glowing screen, she frowned then reported, "According to Delta's flight itinerary, Cartier's coming in at 6:16 on flight 1604."

Jubilee threw her hands in the air. "Dude, are ya like kiddin' me? Ev, do ya realize that's like in thirty minutes? And that the airport's totally like forty-five minutes away…even with Ange's drivn'? And are ya plannin' on letting' the queen bee know her pops is rollin' into town? An' what is Frostie gonna say when we tell her we're rollin' ta tha airport ta possibly mix it up with mega-grody Emplate?"

Everett began to answer to her barrage of more or less rhetorical questions, but a second thought stopped him. Monet seemed to be going through a lot lately and letting her know what was going on would probably only make things worse. Besides, if they could get to the airport in time, they could simply escort Cartier back to the school, safe and sound…without involving her at all. And there was the chance that his flight would be delayed or disembarking would take a while, so there was the chance that they had a few extra minutes to work with. Which meant it was possible they would avoid Emplate all together.

"I know. And with Monet acting so strangely lately, I don't want to upset her any more. We'll bring Cartier back here, and she won't ever know that he was in danger. And we're going to escort the Ambassador, not fight Emplate. Paige, anything on Tasha?"+

Paige continued. "Her story checks out. She's the adopted sister of Richard Cale, currently the CEO of Paladin Industries, an England-based corporation."

To Everett, someone trying to snare them in an elaborate trap wouldn't pick someone from another country to impersonate, and her concern sounded genuine over the phone. Coupled with the fact that the Ambassador really was on a flight to Snow Valley, they had good cause to heed her warning about Emplate.

He glanced toward the stairs and spotted Sean and Kiana heading directly towards him. "Sean, we've got a problem."

"Lad, what happened?"

"We just got a call from Tasha Hamilton. She said that her brother and Cartier were coming here to Snow Valley today. But she said that they were in danger. Emplate."

"Ach! Ah have nae heard that devil's name in quite some time. And this is th' first h heard o' Monet's father comin' in. Do ye have his itinerary?" After Everett nodded affirmatively, he continued, "We were goin' t' th' police station t' see about th' recent kidnappin' cases. Ev, take a small team with ye and meet Cartier at the airport and escort him back here safely. Ah have a bad feeling about all o' this."

"Will do. I'll take Ange, Jubes, Clarice, and Paige—"

Surprisingly, Paige interjected, "I'll tag along with you, Mr. Cassidy, if you don't mind." She gave Everett a knowing look, understanding that he was caught off-guard, but with everything happening so fast, she didn't have time to explain.

"Aye. Emma suggested ye come wit' us t' th' station," Sean said to her. He then turned back to Everett. "Be careful. If Emplate's loomin' around, there's no tellin' what th' devil he's up t'. Do yuir best not t' engage him in th' airport unless ye absolutely have t'. And if there's any trouble at all, call me or Emma."

"Yes, father," Jubilee sarcastically replied. "Sean, like calm down. It's not like our first go round with ol' dumb Emplate. Like besides, he tried tha airport thing before, and we totally kicked his tail."

"You know, I don't think we really kicked his tail at the airport that time," Paige replied, remembering her own hasty offensive against Emplate, which nearly cost her life. Ultimately, he escaped without a trace, coming back to haunt them several times over.

Jubilee waved her hand dismissively. "Pssh. Whatev. He didn't like get Jono, and everybody was okay in tha end. So, he's totally not gonna get papa St. Croix."

"We should go," Everett announced as he headed for the door. Followed by his team, he gave Sean and Kiana a final nod before departing.

Sean rubbed the back of his neck, the tension already tightening his muscles. He hoped that there was simply a misunderstanding, and everything was just fine. But his gut felt the complete opposite.

"Are you okay?" Kiana asked.

"Aye. Jus' a wee bit o' stress. Ah dinnae like th' timing o' everythin'. Ah hate t' say this, but Ah dinnae have a good feelin' about this."

"Who is Emplate?"

"Ach. I forgot ye new students haven't had th' pleasure. He's been a thorn in our side for quite some time. He feeds off the bone marrow o' mutants, like some sort of vampire. He's gone t' great lengths t' recapture Yvette. She was a prisoner of his, freed by a wee teleporter called Gateway."

"Yvette, the girl with the red, hard skin. I haven't really had the chance to interact with her at all. I really don't see her all that much, actually."

"She's still a bit o' a mystery t' us. She cannae talk, and her mind cannae be scanned by any psychics, even one as good as Emma. She's very shy and tends t' stay away from the lot o' ye when yuir congregatin' in yuir big groups. But if you're by yourself, she'll approach ye. Ye jus' have t' be careful not t' scare th' lass. We dinnae know th' extent of torture that monster put her through, but Ah'm sure that her hesitancy is directly related. But back t' Emplate, he's dangerous and isn't above hurtin' the lot o' us t' get what he wants."

Kiana shifted her weight, suddenly unnerved. Emplate sounded vicious, cruel, and ruthless, and the fact that he held someone hostage against their will solidified her opinion that he was nothing but a monster. And she suddenly understood Emma's reluctance for them to get involved—just as with Mina Laroché, he was the type that would severely injure them or worse. Same with the mutants they fought at the Arminthorpe Corporation.

She was glad when Michael descended the stairs, interrupting her darkening thoughts about their adversaries. "Mike, you've got great timing. We were just coming to find you."

"I'm not getting put on the spot by another crew of X-Men, am I?" he asked with a hint of a smile.

Sean caught his almost too hidden humor. "Ha! Nay, lad. But we are headin' t' th' police station. Kiana, Rico, and Vincent—th' lads think that th' kidnappin's from last night may be related. All three were mutants. An' all three had elemental mutant powers. Figure we'll visit Chief Authier and get his take on th' situation. You up for joinin' us?"

He nodded affirmatively. "Kiana mentioned it earlier. It's been awhile since I've been down to the station, and I'm curious about the kidnappings myself. Maybe we can help."

"That's exactly what we were thinking," Kiana added, elated that everyone seemed to be on board with at least talking to the police and pursuing a possible investigative thread. But Michael's sudden pensive frown caught her off guard. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Well, I'm concerned about—"

The deep chime of the doorbell cut off his response. Without really meaning to, his mind reached out to the other side of the door, and the precursory telepathic sweep sent a shiver down his spine. His statement completely forgotten, Michael's featured darkened as he glared through the door.

Noticing the abrupt change, Sean asked, "What's wrong, lad? Tis only a visitor—"

"His hostility is definitely in the right place," Emma entered, her lips pursed into a tense frown. She continued past them and placed her hand on the doorknob. Before opening it, she revealed, "It's Richard Arminthorpe."

A faux smile in place, she opened the door fully but didn't step aside. "Well, look what dragged itself to our doorstep. Did you come here to harass my students again?"

The tall man ran his fingers through his dark hair and let out an amused chuckle. "If I remember correctly, your students were snooping around my compound. I simply responded to an unforeseen intrusion. I'm sure you would have done the same. However, my reason for coming here wasn't to debate morals and ethics with you—one of my protégés has gone missing. Craig Taylor. Riptide. He went into Snow Valley for the day and didn't return."

Emma crossed her arms. "Children these days are much smarter and rebellious these days. He probably ran away, which is not surprising considering your malevolent influence."

"My children are loyal. They don't run away."

"I'm sure brainwashing has everything to do with it," Kiana sarcastically added.

Sean questioned, "Why don't ye send yuir own vigilante group t' find 'em? Why do ye need our help? And why should we help ye? And how did ye get past our security?"

"So much negativity and animosity coming from the Xavier crusaders. I figured that you'd gladly extend your hand to fellow mutants."

Emma's lips tightened. "You're an antagonistic enigma. It's highly likely that you kidnapped Niles Cain. You pursued and endangered my students and innocent mutants for your own ambitions. And now, at the height of your scheme, you ask the very people you're trying to destroy for help?"

"And here I am getting lectured by the infamous White Queen. How ironic."

Annoyed, Sean firmly said, "Tis enough o' yuir talk. We learned o' th' abductions last night. Ah'm visitn' th' police station t' see if there's anythin' we can do t' help. If we find out anythin', we'll let ye know."

Richard smiled. "Good. I'm willing to call a truce until this situation is resolved."

"Jus' keep yuir kids out of this. We'll handle this...our way. Understood?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Cassidy."

Emma kept her defensive posture. "So, are you going to give us any information on Niles Cain? Or do we have to continue this foolish game of cloak and dagger?"

"You know, Frost. I'm surprised that you all aren't further along in your investigation, but then again, you have been somewhat distracted. Niles is with us. But he's not the same man your students knew. But I have a feeling you'll find that out soon enough. But today isn't that day."

"So you did kidnap him!" Michael angrily confirmed, his raw emotion activating his telekinetic energy. His clothes stirred and his eyes glossed over with a fiery, depthless azure, as the normally invisible telekinetic energies became a visible corona rippling from his entire body. "You and your weird gang of mutant bodyguards!"

Unfazed by Michael's display, Richard flatly said, "I didn't come here to fight. My pupil is missing. I want him found."

"Michael, settle down, lad," Sean calmly ordered. More than anything, he wanted to let loose a concussive sonic scream that would hit him as hard as a speeding train. But a fight now wouldn't solve anything and delay them from the real situation at hand. His aquamarine eyes narrowed in anger, never leaving their guest. "He's right—we dinnae need a fight right now."

Michael replied, "He's responsible for—"

"I'm responsible for many things," Richard snapped, his smile now a tight-lipped line of agitation. "There's nothing that I have to explain to any of you. Just as you have your purpose and goals, I have mine. Niles Cain just happens to be a key part of that. I suggest you save your energy for who or whatever is kidnapping mutants." He tilted his head in a respectful manner, signaling his departure. "Good day, Frost. Cassidy. Oh, and don't worry. We'll see each other again soon enough, Lawson, Ms. Asahara."

"I'm counting on it," Michael said.

Only after Richard disappeared from view did Sean ask, "Ach. Were you able to catch anythin', Emma?"

She shook her head regretfully. "His mind is heavily shielded. He wouldn't have come here if it wasn't. I could break through, but not without stampeding around in head and alerting him to my presence. Not to mention the potential telepathic backlash. As good as I am, there are drawbacks and negative consequences for unwanted telepathic intrusions."

Sean rubbed his neck, sometimes forgetting how complicated and convoluted mental abilities were. This was really his first exposure to its intricacies, and he felt like he learned something new every time.

"Am I allowed to hate that guy?" Michael asked, his powers dissipated and anger subsided.

"Yeah, yuir allowed. I cannae say I care fer th' bastard too much m'self."

Emma nodded. "Trust me, my hatred for that man runs deep. He's fortunate that I don't scramble his brains within his thick skull."

As Kiana's thin eyebrows arched upward in surprise, as concern and disbelief overtook her features. "Can you do such a thing?"

She simply smiled, a glint of evil mixed into her full lips.

"She scares me a little bit," Michael mentioned to Sean and Kiana.

"Aye," Sean smiled. "Th' lass scares me too. Anyhow, grab Paige and Ethan. I dinnae think we have too much more time t' waste."

Emma nodded. "You're right. I just got a call from Charles. It seems that Bishop saved Cartier from an attack by none other than the wayward St. Croix monster, Emplate. He's concerned that the Ambassador is in danger."

"Everett got a similar call. Ah sent him and a few of th' others t' meet Cartier at th' airport."

"That's good. I'm going to head to the mansion to speak to Charles directly about our involvement with the locals in regards to the kidnappings. And if Emplate is stirring up trouble, I don't want us caught off guard. Gateway might know something—he's there with Bishop."

"That little man is always in th' mix o' somethin' or another."

"Sean, just be careful with the kids. I don't like the way any of this is unfolding."

"I agree wit' ye. We'll be careful."

They parted ways to their respective destinations, fully aware that the wheels of fate were already in motion. Time wasn't on their side, and they could only hope that skill and a little luck would see them through.

III.

The afternoon air whipped through the open jeep as it zipped down the road, kicking up fallen leaves. Rico turned the wheel gently, coasting through a wide curve, barely tapping the brake, then straightened for the ten-mile stretch of road ahead. They weren't too far from the town—far enough to be somewhat secluded but close enough to conveniently visit or shop.

He stole a quick glimpse toward his passenger, Vincent Sellenger. It was always hard for Rico to tell whether his teammate was enjoying himself or utterly disgusted with the world around him. He couldn't remember the last time he saw Vincent genuinely smile, let alone hold it for more than three seconds.

They were on the road nearly five minutes, but the silence made it seem like an eternity. "So," Rico broke the quiet, "have you and Mikey worked out your differences?" He thought it was near-impossible, but he swore Vincent's expression darkened and his frown hardened.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Come on, man. It's obvious you hate him for some reason that none of us know or understand. Hell, I don't even think he really knows. But your temper's just going to wind up causing more trouble. And honestly, I don't want to be anywhere near you two when you do fight. And if he's mixed up with the Phoenix or whatever, it's probably not a good idea on your part to keep provoking him."

"If he hadn't—"

Rico sucked in a breath, cutting Vincent off. "Dude, there's a mummy in the middle of the road."

"Enough with the dumb ass jokes. You—" Vincent's chastising retort melted as his icy eyes spotted exactly what Rico had seen only moments before. Like something out of an old horror film, a mummy, complete with worn bandages and an endless stare, stood nearly motionless in the center of the street. "Holy shit! There's a mummy in the middle of the road!"

"I know. I just said that."

Rico slowed the jeep to a stop, keeping his hands tightly gripped to the wheel. They were a good distance from the shambling being, probably at least thirty feet, but even at that distance, he didn't feel entirely safe. And when its mindless shuffle stopped and a pair of crimson, beady eyes bore through him, he knew they were in trouble.

Masking his fear with levity, Rico said, "Maybe it lost its way to the museum. You wanna give him directions?"

Before Vincent could fire back a comment, the mummy lurched forward with an aggressive step, then almost within the next split second, it appeared directly in front of the jeep with its hands resting on the hood. A moan gurgled from a mouth partially hidden by wraps, and it leaned forward, pushing its full weight onto the hood. The metal collapsed underneath the mummy's strength and the back tires rose off the ground.

Rico stifled a cry of surprise. "I think we're in trouble," he said. He then remembered Kiana's warning about the potential targets of the mysterious mutant kidnapper in Snow Valley. According to her hypothesis, the mutants were kidnapped because of their element-based powers. The kidnapper already had three mutants who could control lightning, earth, and water. She warned that the closest mutants that fit the other element profiles were Rico, who controlled wind and air currents, and Vincent, who created and controlled fire.

And as they faced an impossibly animated, malevolent mummy, Rico couldn't help but to think that the kidnappings and this strange occurrence were related. Which meant two things—they would find the missing mutants, but they'd also be among they kidnapped. And also face-to-face with whoever or whatever was behind it all. He didn't plan on being apprehended by the mummy, but he was smart enough to know things never went according to plan.

"Cerebra, activate tracking devices for Vidal and Sellenger cell phones. Activate satellite recording—use Vidal cell phone coordinates."

"What—"

"I don't know what this dude's intentions are. But if he's coming after us, he's the one that took the others. No matter what happens, we'll tag this guy and figure out what to do about him later. But for now, we're getting the hell out of here," Rico said as he threw the car in reverse.

But just as the car began to roll backwards, the mummy made its move. The loosely wrapped bandages around the mummy's torso and arms came to life, controlled by some invisible force and snaked around the car and tires. The front wheels squealed against the asphalt road, the unmistakable odor of burning rubber filling the car. But Rico didn't let up on the gas. He pressed harder and yanked the wheel, hoping that they would break free.

The mummy flashed a grin, exposing crooked, gritty teeth before hurling the car over its head. There was a moment where the car flew through the air, completely immune to gravity, until it was smashed on the road, inverted, the roof grinding against the asphalt and the wheels still spinning.

Retracting its bandages, the mummy surveyed the damage momentarily, curiously eying the jeep before pressing forward with its mission. It moved lethargically but with purpose, and quickly closed the distance, heading toward the passenger side.

As it approached, Vincent stirred back to an alert state, disoriented by the crash. Groaning, he unfastened his seatbelt and toppled awkwardly onto the asphalt, then maneuvered into a crawling position, legs outside of the jeep. He ignored the twinges of pain from the bruises and small cuts and focused on Rico, who was still upside down, buckled in, and unconscious.

"Rico, man. Wake up," Vincent pleaded, his voice scratchy and weak. Just as he reached for his friend's shoulder, a firm grip locked around his ankle. Before he could even think about reacting, he was yanked completely out of the jeep and thrown toward the side of the road like a rag doll.

Still stunned, he shook off the fog of confusion only a second before the mummy snatched him up by the collar, dangling him almost a foot off the ground. The overwhelming stench of the mummy—an odor of mold, musty corridors, and dust—made him completely forget his aching body, and instead focus on saving himself and Rico.

"You don't know who you're fucking with!" he shouted as he created a burst of flames around him, surprising his assailant. The searing flames fanned outward in waves, incinerating the grass and debris immediately around them. He wasn't sure whether the mummy was really a dead person somehow brought to life, or a live person masquerading as a mummy, but whichever it was, he would make sure it left with quite a few third-degree burns.

It let go of him and staggered back, giving Vincent only a moment to scramble to his feet, ignoring the pain throbbing through his body. But before he could act, a huge, gaping mouth suddenly opened from the middle of the mummy's chest, and it spewed out a thick, gaseous cloud. The dingy green mist immediately enveloped Vincent, and it instantly penetrated his eyes, nose, and mouth.

He gagged as his eyes burned and breathing became labored. Dizzy and weak, he stumbled forward, before he completely blacked out, collapsing lifelessly to the ground.

"Vincent!" Rico weakly called as he clambered out of the car. He thought he had a moment to react, but the mummy turned to him, and once again, bandages shot from its body, wrapping around Rico's throat, chest, arms, and legs. And with a tug, they all tightened.

_They're strangling me!_

Rico's fingers pried at the bandages tightly wound around his neck, but just couldn't get a solid grasp of the leathery wraps. Taking a breath became impossible, and he fell to one knee, his lungs and body beginning to spasm at the lack of air. In a desperate move for self-preservation, he summoned the air currents to his command, but with his concentration waning, the wind whipped with tornado-like force.

Though Wrap rocked against the wind battering him, his deeply set, obsidian eyes locked on its victim as he struggled. The mummy's concentration remained on the psionic control of its bandages, and it didn't lapse until Rico crumpled to the ground.

Just as quickly as Rico's control of the wind had been lost, nature took back over, returning the roaring wind to a gentle autumn breeze.

IV.

Monet St. Croix soared through the air, her mind totally focused on one thing—finding Emplate. And what she had to do. Or more specifically, who she had to find.

She didn't want anyone to follow her, so she purposely pissed off everyone to ensure they wouldn't notice her absence until well after she was long gone. Her plan was to sneak out, take care of Emplate, and get back before anyone knew what had happened. Besides, she felt that Emplate was her problem to deal with, and couldn't bear the thought of that monster laying another finger on her teammates or family. Ever.

_And if I have to kill him to make sure of it,_ _I will,_ Monet resolved.

Flying by means of sheer will, she soared only a few feet above the tree tops of Aldine Forest, only about thirty miles away from the school. At first, she couldn't believe the audacity of Emplate, taking up residence so close to the school. Then again, the last place they would ever look would be someplace that was so close. It was an age-old trick: hide right under their noses. There was no telling how long Emplate had been there or how long he had been secretly watching them.

The last time they fought Emplate, he surprised them on their own turf. But this time, Monet decided it was time to take the fight to him. Closing in on his hideout, she shot straight down through the trees and immediately spotted a run-down mansion within a small clearing.

She surveyed the area carefully, not surprised that there were no measures of security that she could immediately detect. Then again, Emplate wasn't known for his sense of caution. If anything, Emplate probably presumed that no one would ever find his new three-story dwelling.

Spotting an open set of French doors off a second-story balcony, Monet shifted her trajectory and then landed soundlessly, her senses operating at their peak to make sure no one snuck up on her. The vine-laced balcony led her into an old, dusty bedroom filled with old, traditional Victorian furniture. She stepped cautiously into the dim room and caught the odor of aged wood and cloth before her eyes adjusted almost instantly to the darkness, a fundamental fortune of having the ability to see in the dark.

She scanned the room quickly, noting the open door into the darkened hallway. She decided not to perform a telepathic scan, keeping in mind Jean's lesson from earlier in the day. _When you read someone's mind, it's like opening the door to their house. But you have to keep in mind that your own door is open as well. As much as you can see about them, they can in turn see about you._

Monet didn't want to run the risk of Emplate possibly feeling her telepathic reach, so she simply locked her mind down with mental barriers, strong enough to stay psychically invisible to any mid to high-level psi. Her training with Gateway, lessons from Jean Grey-Summers, and run-ins with Emma made such a thing easier for her than most other telepaths.

Relying solely on stealth and her physical prowess, she ventured into the hallway. She still had on normal street clothes-a cream Dolce Gabanna blouse, a pair of well-fitting jeans, and black leather boots—and regretted not donning her training uniform before heading out. Floating inches off the ground to avoid the sound of footsteps against the wood floors, she navigated through the hallway, passed a flight of stairs that lead to the third floor and first floor, and slowed as her acute hearing picked up voices from the far end.

"Boss," D.O.A. began. "Wrap just returned with the other two. The wind and fire brats. They're chained up with the others."

_Wind? Fire?_ Monet repeated to herself. The only two mutants she knew that would fit that description were Rico and Vincent. But she was sure they were safe back at the school, weren't they? Still unwilling to risk telepathic detection, she decided to wait for some kind of clue as to their identities.

"Good," Emplate replied. "Very good. Everything is coming together according to plan. Now, there's only one other piece missing—"

His unmistakable, gravelly voice sent a chill down Monet's spine, but she listened intently. Whatever Emplate was plotting, it sounded as if it was farther along than she suspected. She should have deduced the cause of her blackouts much sooner than when she did, but it wasn't until that afternoon that it all came together. Despite her initial thoughts that the blackouts were caused by merging psyches with her sisters, they had continued even after their separation. She discovered that during the blackouts, Emplate used some kind of telepathic connection as a means to simply observe and study the other students. His influence shocked her neurological processes, so essentially, her body simply locked down into an unresponsive, immobile state. It wasn't until he got sloppy and complacent that she detected his presence in her mind.

"Ah, dear sister, will you not join me in my chamber?"

Monet paused for only a moment, cursing the fact that somehow, Emplate knew she was there. Still, she wasn't surprised, so she lowered herself to the ground, strode confidently to the last door on the left, and entered the room, giving a fleeting glance to D.O.A. before settling on Emplate.

"Well now, I surmised that you would have adapted an iota of domesticated vogue, as opposed to this austere, Spartan domicile he has embraced. But then, what else would I expect from a motley crew who chose a destitute lighthouse as a base of operations?" Monet peered down her nose at the surroundings, then let her withering gaze rest on D.O.A.

"The high and mighty Monet St. Croix. To what do we owe the honor?" D.O.A. asked.

"I'm not here to answer to a peasant like you," she replied then turned her attention to Emplate. "I want to know why you've been spying on us. And I want to know what you plan to do with the mutants you've kidnapped. And I do hope to have an answer within the next few moments. Otherwise, things will get broken and people will get hurt."

Emplate's eyes narrowed and his cracked face managed a smile, even underneath the respirator that covered half his face. "Never the one for pleasantries, eh, Monet?

"Hardly."

"Well, it's been a long time since I last saw you, sister."

"You haven't been my brother for a long time, Emplate. Whatever trace there was of Marius has diminished and exists no more."

"Is that what you tell yourself to help you sleep at night?" Emplate asked, his voice tainted with a disparaging tone. "Don't worry, he is still here with me. But not for too much longer."

From her peripheral, Monet noticed Bulwark, Wrap, and Vincente enter the chamber behind her, blocking the doorway. At that moment, she knew that any chance of escaping would include a fight. And she welcomed it.

"I don't know what you're planning, but I'm here to put an end to you, Emplate. Once and for all," Monet threatened as she took an aggressive step towards Emplate. But suddenly, D.O.A. stood in between them, his wide grin still intact.

D.O.A. said, "Your precious teacher must've not told you that trespassing can have severe consequences."

"Oh? I must have been absent on that day. _C'est la vie_. If it is truly your intention to issue a reprimand, let's review your most recent history when facing me. I recollect that none of you have ever bested me in a straight-forward battle. So, why would you blatantly instigate a skirmish that you are sure to lose?"

D.O.A. licked his lips lasciviously. "You know, you're kind of sexy when you're acting all stuck-up—"

In a blur of motion, Monet snatched him by the collar and shook the diminutive mutant. "I've had it with being called stuck-up!" Her brows furrowed angrily and just for a moment, she wanted to pummel D.O.A. into oblivion, taking out every last one of her frustrations on her brother's main henchman. But Bulwark's heavy approach halted her ire momentarily.

The brutish mutant barreled toward Monet and shouted, "Put 'im down!"

Her annoyance peaked, and Monet's eyes flared. "You asked for it," she replied. Using much more strength and speed than necessary, she hurled D.O.A. towards Bulwark. A triumphant smirk crossed her full lips as the two collided and toppled away from her, stopped only by the wall on the far end of the chamber.

Pieces of stone and rubble sprinkled the unmoving figures, effectively taking Bulwark and D.O.A. out of the fight temporarily. Already surmising Vincente and Wrap would attack next, Monet steadied herself, already assessing the multitude of options and potential actions that she could take.

"The X-Vixen makes her move. Time for me to make mine," Vincente grinned as his nearly six-foot frame shifted from a normal, solid state into to a gaseous state. His purple, fog-like form clouded the hallway, but suddenly shifted towards Monet, bolstered by his own malevolent intent.

"I've seen that trick before," Monet responded. "It won't work on me twice."

"We'll see about that. Wrap!"

The shambling mummy beside Vincente stood erect, with its arms outstretched toward Monet. Before she could move, the tattered bandages wrapped around its appendages shot out, snaking around Monet's arms, legs, and waist.

"Judging from your rather juvenile attack, you haven't met me before," the corner of Monet's full lips curled into a smile as she yanked Wrap towards her, threw him in the air by his bandages, then whipped around fast enough to create a vortex, which sucked in an unsuspecting Vincente.

With a triumphant laugh, she abruptly halted. Wrap tumbled head over heels though the air, his bandages disentangling themselves from Monet before he smashed into the wall. Vincente reformed into his normal solid state, dizzied and disoriented just long enough for Monet to grab him by the collar and fling him into another wall without much resistance.

"Now, it's just you and me, Emplate."

Emplate stood, amusement flickering in his eyes. "What did you really come here for, Monet? To save your brother? It's much too late for that. But your presence is required for my plan to work, and just as I predicted, you fell right into my trap."

"You're bluffing."

"Or am I?"

"I became aware of your presence…you've been using me as a spy. Or rather, taking advantage of the psychic connection I have with my brother."

"So, you've figured out your blackouts. Your mind is formidable—you instinctively put up some of the strongest mental blocks I've ever encountered every time I entered. Your mind worked so hard to block me out that it shut off all but your essential functions."

"You became complacent—threw caution to the wind. I was able to trace the psychic connection right back to you."

"Did you honestly think that I wouldn't anticipate your discovery?"

Monet barely took a step as a white-hot flash of pain erupted behind her eyes. The pain was so intense that she only had a fraction of a moment before she dropped to the ground, unmoving.

"I always plan for the worst, dear sister. A psychic grenade of sorts, turning your own powers against you in a single attack. Now, my plan is almost complete. Now, for the final pieces..."

Emplate smiled, knowing that no matter what happened, no one would be able to stop him.

V.

Rich Cale stood and stretched, still feeling the after-effects of taking the trans-Atlantic red eye flight from England. His legs were cramped, his back tight, and his rear end numb. Being on a plane for countless hours wasn't exactly his cup of tea, and several times, he regretted hastily agreeing to meet Cartier in the States.

Though he had gotten to Logan International Airport hours ago, he quickly grew tired of skimming the mindless literature scattered about through the terminal, and he had his fill of reheated hamburgers, warm fries, and drinks with way too much ice. So, he simply sat, waiting at the gate Cartier was arriving into.

Though big, the airport itself still had a cozy feel to it. Comfortable chairs, soft lighting, and soothing colors added to the experience, making feel more like a coffee shop than a cold, hectic international airport. Even now, he didn't feel the normal stresses associated with being in an airport: the bustle of passengers, the worry of missing a connecting flight, or the impatience of a long layover. Part of it could have been that he was preoccupied with meeting Cartier and getting out of the airport before something bad happened.

He really didn't expect for Emplate to brazenly attack him or Cartier right in the middle of the airport, so he figured that at least for the time being, they were relatively safe. But there was no telling when Emplate or someone in his servitude would show up. Regardless, he didn't plan on leaving Cartier alone for a minute, and he was fully prepared to deal with anyone that threatened him or the Ambassador.

A female voice from the public address system cut into Rich's thoughts. "May I have your attention please? Flight 1604, set to arrive at gate C-4 has now moved to D-19."

_A completely different terminal. Great,_ Rich groaned internally. He had only been to this airport a few times, but he remembered that the terminals were connected, so he could either walk there or take an underground shuttle to the terminal. Considering his luck already, he decided he'd be better off walking. He didn't figure Cartier would even be disembarking the plane when Rich arrived, despite the extra time it took to walk.

Though not in a hurry, he briskly maneuvered through patrons, all of whom were rushing towards their own destinations, unmindful of the young man. Still apprehensive from the night before, his tension rose as he moved hurriedly, a foreboding feeling of something wrong burning in his chest.

It took about five minutes to reach the other terminal, and already, a steady flow of people emerged from the D-19 gate area, having already disembarked the plane. He slowed his pace a bit, and though everything seemed fine, he hoped Cartier would emerge shortly.

A piecing scream froze Rich's blood.

Suddenly, the airport erupted into chaos, as people scrambled in every direction away from the gate. Going against the retreating crowd, Rich shoved past people until he had a good view of the gate, then he stopped in horror.

Cartier lay crumpled on the ground, the menacing figure of Emplate looming over him.

"Monster!" Rich cried out as his right hand streaked across his body, leaving a faint trail of flames. As his arm fully extended, a narrow column of fire erupted from his palm then vanished, leaving behind a gold handled sword with a shining, silver blade. Rich grasped it with confidence and experience, pointing the tip at Emplate.

Rich's brows arched in anger, as he glared darkly at his enemy. "Step away from Cartier, or so help me, I'll kill you right here."

"Richard Cale. Demon hunter extraordinaire," Emplate cackled condescendingly. "Pathetic. You're too late. If you value your life, you'll stay out of my way. This is a family affair. But you wouldn't know anything about that, now would you?"

"How...dare...you..." Rich spat through gritted teeth. His face burning and hands trembling with fury, Rich could barely keep himself from retaliating with a devastating attack. But any of those spells would have easily hit the bystanders still scrambling for safety. And couldn't simply barge in for fear of Emplate injuring Cartier. Or worse. But if he did nothing, Emplate would get away. Options and doubts racing through his mind, he showed nothing but unbridled resolve on his face.

"Tantrums weren't your father's style. But then again, you're not your father. You have his sword, but nothing else. You'd be wise to stay out of this, Cale. If you persist on interfering, I will kill you."

In one smooth motion, Emplate scooped up Cartier with one arm, then his body became translucent, the first sign that he was phasing into another dimension. He gave Rich a final triumphant glance before disappearing completely.

"Dammit," Rich cursed. He flicked his wrist, letting his sword fall from his hand, and in another puff of flame, the magnificent sword vanished, dismissed by its owner. Just as he thought things couldn't get any worse, he noticed a blond male jogging towards him.

"What the hell was that? And why did that monster kidnap Ambassador Cartier St. Croix? And why are you here?" the blonde questioned.

"I'm sorry. But I don't know you. Though you seem to know much more than the crowds scrambling for safety."

"You're Richard Cale, head of Paladin Technologies. Also, known in the underground circuit as one of the most highly respected and accomplished demon hunters in existence. Your being here wasn't coincidence, was it?"

"You still haven't introduced yourself. But I can tell you're a reporter. I could smell you a mile away. I don't have time for media dogs. Go bark up another tree. Obviously, I have real work to do."

"Well, you're much more snooty and pompous than the tabloids give you credit for. Listen, your royal pain in the ass, an ambassador was just kidnapped by a monster. Your one-man show couldn't save him. You're going to need my help."

"How presumptuous of you. And why is that?"

"You're not going to be the only one interested in this case. Not only the police, but Ambassador St. Croix's daughters are at a school nearby. They're going to be all over this in no time."

"So, what does that have to do with you?"

"They owe me. Big time. We could figure out—"

"Not interested. My family has been fighting Emplate for generations. There is nothing Cartier's daughters or you can possibly tell me. Besides, I know your type—you're just trying to get a scoop in time for your deadline. Well, leave me out of it. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"You can't just leave. The police are going to want to question you, Cale."

"You seem to have the full story. So, if you want to help, why don't you waste your time with them?" Rich took two steps away before uttering a chant under his breath, and in a flash, he vanished.

"Dammit," Graylon cursed. Not only did he hear the police rushing up behind him, but now, he was the only remaining witness for a crime that would surely blow up into an international incident in no time. He only meant to gather information, but as much as he didn't want to be, he was in the middle of something much bigger than he initially realized.

And as much as he didn't want to admit it, he couldn't possibly do any of this alone. Steadying himself, he prepared for his interrogation by the police, then plotted his next stopping point: the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional.

Richard Cale, Godiva Cale, Kai Matougi, and Rimo are all based on characters created by Richard Sampson, who has stories posted as well

Aotrs Commander – Again, I have to thank you for staying on board this long! I always look forward to your reviews! Now, I definitely had to bring Bishop into the fray because of the suspected connection he has with Monet, as well as the Emplates roaming around in his future timeline. And I wasn't a fan of the huge betrayal and character shift the writers took Bishop on. He was a solid characters in X-Treme X-Men, and for him to do a complete 180 was surprising and disappointing. Your feeling is correct, things are going to get very complicated!

From what I understand, there wasn't supposed to be a Monet. Apparently, Scott Lobdell always intended for her to be the combined form of the twins. However, that didn't make sense to me since their nanny, before she was killed by the Phalanx, spoke to Monet about the twins and talked to her as if Monet had always been there. So, I like the idea of there being a Monet and two twins. I don't think the whole weird, Twin Peaks, alternate dimension nonsense was the original intent though. I absolutely hated that storyline! I set my story to start after all of those events, and do my best not to have to refer back to them. But you are correct, all that happened early on, and the rescuing of Gaia was a part of that storyline.

Emplate definitely has his minions, as you see in this chapter, but he's also upped his game. He's not playing around this time, and Generation X and the X-Men are going to have their hands full! Yes, expect to see a few more X-Men quite soon (it's how I justify keeping it in the X-Men category).

Ugh! I do hate the fact that Jubilee is a vampire now apparently, but don't worry…she will not be an Emplate in this story. She will however, kick ass as always!


	35. Emplate's Revenge, Part 3

I.

Everett focused on the road, maneuvering the RX-8 around the winding roads leading to Snow Valley. He pushed the speed limit, hoping that they didn't get pulled over, in an effort to get to the airport in time to save Cartier and someone named Richard Cale.

"Ev, we'll like get there in time," Jubilee patted his leg reassuringly from her place in the passenger seat. She also needed to break the uncomfortable silence that had settled over the car as soon as they left.

At the first mention of Emplate, the older members of Generation X immediately grew concerned. Though they weren't officially branded a superhero team, Emplate had become their arch-nemesis, a villain that remained a constant and significant threat. He managed to inflict significant harm on every member of the team on one occasion or another, leaving deep scars that hadn't quite healed.

On top of that, their teammate, Monet St. Croix had mysteriously vanished earlier that morning. Monet had her secrets, which had become a part of her persona, but it wasn't like her to simply disappear without telling anyone. Even Jubilee knew something wasn't right with her sudden departure. Not to mention Monet's nasty behavior as of late. If Jubilee didn't know better, she would think that Monet distanced herself on purpose for this very moment.

_But why?_

It obviously had to do with Emplate, but she had never faced Emplate alone. If that was the case, Jubilee hoped Monet knew what she was doing. And if not, she hoped that they could find her before something really bad happened.

Clarice, seated behind Jubilee, leaned in between Jubilee and Everett. "Sorry, I'm kind of catching up on things. I'm not really sure what this Emplate thing is. I'm gathering he/she/it is obviously one of the bad guys, like Magneto. But can anyone kind of fill me in on why everyone's so nervous?"

"Emplate is Monet's brother," Everett started, figuring it was best to tell Clarice as much as he could as briefly as possible. "I don't know the details, but somehow he became the monster that he is today. He feeds off the bone marrow of other mutants and can transform people into creatures like him. He's attacked us several times, and every time, we've barely managed to defeat him."

Jubilee added, "And like now, he's suddenly on tha scene again. We totally haven't heard anythin' from that creep in like forever. So this is like mad suspect, ya know?"

"Chica, Emplate is bad news," Angelo summed up from his seat behind Everett. "And if he's back, some major shit is probably goin' down."

Clarice sat back, understanding the gravity of the situation, but regretting that she didn't have the experience to know entirely what they were going up against. She had fought her fair share of enemies, some much tougher than others, so she surmised that this fight wouldn't be easy by any means.

She glanced out of the window, absently watching the trees as they zipped by. She had only dropped into the arms of Generation X yesterday. Despite her panicked attempt to escape, they welcomed her with open arms and trusted her enough to bring her along to investigate. But at the end of the day, they knew less about her than she knew about herself. Where had she come from? Where was she for all that time? And was she going to stay?

Despite the circumstances at hand, Clarice had many things of her own to think about. But for the time being, she pushed those aside, vowing to support her teammates unequivocally. When Everett texted her to meet him in the garage, she gladly went, hoping for some time to sort things out. But if things were as serious and threatening as they made it sound, there wouldn't be much time at all for reflection.

Everett coasted around another bend in the road. "Let's just hope this is some misunderstanding. We'll look for Cartier and Rich at the airport and get them back to the school before anything else happens."

Noticing his tense jawline, Jubilee asked, "Ev, are you okay with this?"

He immediately thought back to the night Emplate had possessed him, and turned him into a creature much like Emplate, with marrow-sucking mouths in the palms of his hands. And under Emplate's enthrallment, he nearly hurt his family and teammates. If not for Monet's intervention, he may not have survived the night. All those feelings of despair, fear, and helplessness flooded back as if it had only happened yesterday.

But it hadn't.

That was months ago, and despite how he felt, it wasn't just about him—Emplate's latest threat now extended beyond Generation X. He knew that regardless of how he felt, he would have to confront and defeat his fear in hopes of saving others that may not be able to save themselves.

"Yeah. Trust me, Emplate's the last person I want to see. And if he's on the move again, there's no telling what he's planning. Which is what scares me. But I won't let him do to anyone else what he did to me."

She gave his hand a quick, gentle squeeze. "Like don't worry. We're here too. And trust me, we'll totally fight Emplate with like every ounce of strength we've got."

"I know," he replied with a smile.

He took a right exit to the airport access road, a three-mile expressway solely for drivers heading to and from the airport. The land was much flatter in this area, the trees replaced by rolling hills and small shrubs. He continuously scanned the road for any speed traps as he pushed eighty miles per hour in the RX-8.

In a little less than ten minutes, they arrived at the sprawling parking lot of the airport, disappointed to find police cars blocking the entryway of the airport. Incoming and outgoing traffic were forced into a checkpoint, and the policemen on foot visually checked every vehicle, validating the identity of the driver and passengers. A knot of dread formed in Everett's stomach as he pulled into a line of cars waiting to enter.

"We're too late, aren't we?" Clarice asked, breaking the tense silence that befell the car.

Everett watched as uniformed and plain clothes policemen kept the flow organized, ensuring they left no stone overturned. But he knew better—they wouldn't find anything. Emplate was long gone by this point, and so was Cartier St. Croix.

When he turned his attention back to the road in front of him, all he managed to see was a blur of a figure dart in front of the car. Everett stomped on the brakes, throwing everyone in the car forward, accented with a whining squeal of rubber against the road.

"Dios! Ev, man!" Angelo stretched a tendril of skin to poke Everett in the shoulder. "I take back what I said the other day 'bout you bein' the best driver. What the hell was that about?"

Directly in front of the car stood Graylon Walsh.

"Like of all people ta run into," Jubilee moaned. "Great going, Ev."

"So, I take it he's not Emplate," Clarice commented.

Angelo answered, "No. But he's no less of a pain in the ass."

Everett rolled down the window and politely offered, "Sorry. I didn't see you—"

"Look, forget it," Graylon hurriedly waved away the apology. "It was kind of my fault. I wasn't paying attention. But I figured you all would show up. I just saw Ambassador St. Croix kidnapped by some monster. And there was some other guy here, Richard Cale, who tried to save him. He vanished before I could get any information out of him. Literally."

"Dammit. We're too late," Angelo cursed.

"Afraid so," Graylon said. "How did you know something was happening here?"

"We got a strange call from a girl...Tasha, I think," Everett explained, not sure how much he should actually reveal to the reporter.

"Tasha Hamilton," Graylon thought for a moment. "That makes sense."

Jubilee leaned towards Graylon, pushing Everett back against his seat. "Okay, blondie. Spill the beans."

"Not so fast, Sparkles. If you want me to share what I have, then you're taking me with you."

"Like no deal! You're like always tryin' to butt into our business. Not to mention tha

mega foul 'tude you had tha last time ya tagged along. I understand yer uncle's like all kinds of caught up with Arminthorpe, but that totally doesn't have anythin' ta do with ya always tryin' ta get up in our mix."

"Well, if you guys weren't dicking around, maybe we would have—"

"Guys, let's settle down," Everett gave Jubilee a soothing glance. "We're just wasting time by arguing. We probably can't even get close to the scene in there to investigate. We'll bring you along under one condition—"

"Ev!" Jubilee exasperatedly shouted, much too loudly for the confined space of the vehicle. She couldn't believe that he was actually entertaining the idea of bringing a reporter along with them. No, not just any reporter, Graylon Walsh, the hotshot reporter that made it his business to badmouth their school.

And the thing that bothered her the most was that he was a mutant. If anything, he should have been defending them, instead of making them look bad around every turn. And for that, she couldn't forgive him.

Everett continued. "No reporting. No questions. No interviews. No snooping. You're under my direction as team leader. We're one hundred percent honest and open with each other. And no attitudes. Deal?"

Graylon raised a blond eyebrow in contemplation, but only for a moment. "You work a hard bargain. But I was assigned to investigate and report how and why Cartier disappeared. It's my job."

"Either you're in or you're out, hommes," Angelo punctuated Everett's requirements from the backseat.

He wiped his lengthy blond bangs from his brow before acquiescing. "Alright. But I have to report something...I'll leave you guys out of it. And you can review the story before I release it. I'll give you guys what I have, and I'll join your little team of superheroes."

Everett shook his head. "We're not superheroes. We're just here to figure out what's going on and why. And as for the story, that's fair. We've got a deal."

Without hesitation, Graylon explained. "Okay, here's what I know: Richard Cale and Cartier St. Croix both flew into Snow Valley this morning. I figure that Cale wanted to meet with the Ambassador, and the Ambassador was here to see his family. Now, the missing piece is why a monster would suddenly appear in the middle of the airport and kidnap the Ambassador. There haven't been any ransom demands or any other threats. My take is that the monster may somehow know him. I tried to ask Rich some questions, but he was more focused on getting Cartier back. If Tasha Hamilton—his adopted sister—called you with a warning, then it's entirely possible that Rich was aware the Ambassador was in danger."

"Anything from the scene?"

"Nothing. The security tapes were distorted, so I'm the only person that knows what happened. I already spent the past hour answering their questions, and they didn't believe that a monster appeared out of nowhere, took the Ambassador, and disappeared without a trace. I didn't even bother telling them about Rich. But here's the thing—I have the hotel he's staying at. He probably went back there. If we're looking for clues, we should start there."

Jubilee interjected, "You're not like runnin' this show—"

"He's right," Everett agreed, much to Jubilee's annoyance. "We don't have anything to go off of right now, so the hotel might be the best place to start. Graylon, Emplate is actually the Ambassador's son. He's attacked us before to try to enslave more mutants to serve him. But he's always had a grudge against his family, which is why he targeted Cartier. And there's also the kidnappings—all three were mutants. Emplate feeds off the bone marrow of mutants. Some of the others are going to Chief Authier with the information to see if they can turn up anything. After we got the call from Tasha, we headed here. And Monet disappeared."

Graylon took a moment to absorb the mounting gravity of the situation. "The Ambassador kidnapped. Mutants taken. Monet's disappeared. Cale's mysterious involvement. And then you guys, caught in the middle of it all. Sounds like something big is about to happen."

"And that's what we're afraid of. Hop in, and let's get to Rich's hotel. If this much has already happened, we don't have much time."

Graylon grabbed the door, but stopped abruptly when he opened it. "Who's the pink chick? I don't remember seeing her the last time."

"The pink chick can speak for herself, blondie," Jubilee sourly responded.

"My teammates call me Blink," Clarice said. "I can dice you into a thousand pieces in the...well...you can figure it out." She let a sly smile cross her lips just make Graylon think twice about pissing her off.

"Blink of an eye," Graylon filled in, noting the dangerous expression that darkened Clarice's face. "Cute. Do all of you have quaint little phrases to go along with your codenames?"

"Nope. But I can think of a few that go with your codename," Jubilee replied.

"Oh? Did you guys finally stop being stingy and give me one?"

"Yeah. And it starts with ass—"

"Guys," Everett interrupted with a warning tone. "We're working together, remember? Graylon's going to curb his attitude, right?" He waited for a nod from him before continuing. "So, we have to check ours too, okay? Jubes?"

"Whatev. If you say so. I'll jus' sit here like a totally good little kid, seen but not heard."

"Come on. This isn't the time."

"Fine. I get it, Ev. Let's jus' like get ta tha hotel."

After Graylon clambered into the car, and only after a lot of shifting went on to fasten seatbelts did Everett hit on the accelerator, make a sharp U-turn, and headed toward the city, where hopefully they would find some answers.

II.

Just before Rich Cale reappeared in the normal plane of existence, he felt the usual churning, wrenching, and burning of his insides. Though he saw nothing but darkness, he knew that his teleportation spell jaunted him through a physically taxing, altered state of being as his body melded with something cosmic and beyond understanding. The trip was instantaneous to anyone on the outside, but to him, it was the longest and most painful instant of his life, which was why he used the spell so infrequently. As soon as he felt solid ground underneath him, and the rush of air filling his lungs, his legs gave out, and he crumpled to the ground.

_"Things must have been pretty hairy for you to use the teleportation spell,"_ Rimo mentioned. The exotic creature, with features of a wolf but a relatively unusually diminutive size, hopped from the bed to his master's side.

Rich rolled onto his back, beads of sweat dotting his forehead while he clenched his midsection. His teeth gritted, he managed to reply, "Emplate—he got Cartier."

_"That complicates things. What happened?"_

As he struggled to a sitting position, the pain began to subside slowly. "I was at the wrong gate. If I had been at the right gate, maybe I could've stopped him. Now, I've got to figure out what Emplate's next move is. But I didn't expect something like this—he took Cartier in broad daylight."

_"It was a brazen move, but—" _the sharp ring of Rich's cell phone interrupted Rimo's reply.

He fished around in his pocket for a second before pulling out his phone and checking the screen for the caller's identity. Cursing silently, he suppressed the remaining aches and put the phone to his ear. "Tasha, I didn't expect you to call so soon. Is everything okay?"

There was a long pause at the other end. "Rich, don't get mad, but I called the school and told them about your and Cartier's arrival." Her words rushed, she still managed to hold her breath afterward, awaiting Rich's response, which she knew would be sharp.

His jaws tightened, but he didn't immediately chastise her. He knew quite well that she wouldn't have deliberately tried to sabotage his mission. But this added a seemingly unnecessary layer of complexity, something he didn't need at this point.

Taking an impatient deep breath, he steadied his voice and asked, "Why did you do that?"

She quickly explained, "I kept seeing crisscross patterns in the vision. After I thought about it, they were actually the letter X. When I called, I knew it was already too late—I knew they wouldn't make it there in time. But they needed to know. And there's a reason why they have to be involved. Rich, they need your help…and you need theirs."

"I can do without their kind of assistance. They don't know the first thing about Emplate, let alone what he's capable of. Besides, they tend to make quite the commotion wherever they go. I'm better off tackling this alone. And you obviously already know that Cartier has been taken."

Tasha suspected as much, but hearing Rich confirm it made her stomach sink. But even more so now, she suspected there was more to the situation than they originally thought. "I have a feeling Emplate won't hurt him. That's not why he was taken. But I can't figure out what the reason is."

But Rich knew what was going on—there were two psyches conflicting. On one hand, Marius St. Croix, rejected and angry, wanted nothing more than to be with them again and would do anything to make that happen. Then there was Emplate, the monster bound to Marius's body by his own father. He wanted revenge and chaos throughout the world, and was willing to destroy anyone in his way.

If Cartier was kidnapped, then that meant that Marius was somewhat in control, seeking to rejoin with his family. And if that was indeed the case, Tasha was absolutely right. But the situation was complicated at best, and Rich really didn't know how he would go about explaining the situation.

"If you feel he's safe, it simply means we have time to rescue him before something changes, and he ends up getting hurt. Look, I better get going. I have to figure out what I'm going to do next."

"Godiva and Kai send their regards as well. Please be careful."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks," he ended the call and let the phone slip from his hand, too weak do anything but sit against the wall and breathe.

_ "So, I take it you're going to continue to play macho, lone wolf Cale?"_

Rich rolled his eyes, punctuating it with a groan. "Not you too. I don't want to hear how I can't do this by myself. I've done fine by myself up to this point. Why would I need—"

_ "Emplate isn't your average enemy, and you're not equipped to handle him now. If you know so much about him, then you have to be able to admit that as well. Rich, I don't want to force the issue, but this is one of many times you must enlist the aid of others. And trust in them."_

"Yeah, just like I trusted everyone else to find my parents' killer?" he snapped, his voice unexpectedly sharp despite his weakened state.

_ "These people are different,"_ Rimo patiently replied. _"Give them a chance. Even now, they're out searching for Emplate. If you don't share the knowledge you have, they're walking into a losing battle. Their defeat will be on your hands."_

"You always know how to lay down a powerful guilt trip." Rich sighed. "Alright, alright. We're going to the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters."

Rimo's pointed ears perked up. _"We?"_

"You didn't think I'd go by myself, did you? Besides, I need at least one person I fully trust around me."

_ "I'm not exactly a person these days."_

"Close enough," Rich replied as he climbed to his feet, his strength and vitality returning. After flexing his limbs and shaking off the last bit of disorientation, he asked, "You ready?"

_"I suppose. You know that this isn't going to be easy."_

"I don't expect anything to ever be easy."

With Rimo close behind, Rich left his hotel room, only missing his unexpected guests by less than five minutes.

III.

Jono Starsmore really didn't care he had been put on babysitting duty. Honestly, with the kids outside playing and the school nearly empty, he languished in the rare moment of tranquility. Things had been plenty busy over the past few weeks, and the rather tumultuous situation with Paige and Ethan only managed to add more stress. So rather than turning on the television, he made a comfortable spot on the couch and simply let his mind wander.

Paige. Rana. His newfound control over his powers. His new face. Gayle. Emplate. Omega Red. Jean Grey-Summers. His new classmates.

His mind ebbed and flowed through the different opinions and observations of every miniscule thought on those topics that seemed to always be at the forefront of his mind. Jono closed his eyes for a moment, attempting to use some of what they learned in class to organize the random collage of images, feelings, and thoughts.

But unlike some of his classmates, Jono's ability didn't express itself through a strong telepathic or psychic ability. He could only project his desired vocal thoughts into the mind of whoever he was talking to at the moment. But anything outside of that seemed near impossible—even now, he just couldn't focus the jumble of thoughts into any kind of semi-coherent, orderly stream of thought.

Frustrated, he opened his eyes and was surprised to find Yvette crouched across from him, carefully perched on the opposite couch. Almost in an animal-like fashion, she regarded him curiously and wordlessly, her solid blue eyes locked on him.

_ "Hey, there, gel,"_ Jono greeted, keeping his discouraged disposition hidden behind a smile. _"I don't see you around very often these days. Seems like you're havin' fun though."_

She responded by cocking her head knowingly and slowly smiling. Disembarking from the couch, she cautiously crept a few feet closer, then stopped, close enough to touch him, yet refrained from doing so, though child-like interest egged her on.

Jono's shoulders sagged as he slouched even more. _"I jus' feel like I can't do right by her. I broke up with her because—well, I don't know. I guess I was scared. We couldn't even get close to each other without blowin' up half the school. She didn't get hurt last time, but I don't want her to end up like Gayle."_ Realizing he was rambling, he said, _"I—you know, this isn't your burden. I don't know why I'm tellin' you all this."_

She nodded encouragingly, yet ever so slightly, as if telling him to continue.

Surprised at her reaction, Jono leaned forward. He could tell that she was trying to communicate with him—something she hadn't done in a while. He felt a kindred spirit within her, and his heart raced thinking that maybe the young mysterious girl left abruptly on their doorstep would finally unveil a voice of her own.

_ "Do you want to tell me something?"_

On the edge of his seat, Jono heard her take a slow breath, but before any sound came out, the slightest noise from the kitchen caught her attention. Her head snapped to the kitchen, spying the new butler in the doorway. She turned back to Jono only for a fraction of a moment, with an unusually unreadable expression, then suddenly darted off, swerving around Robert Noble into the kitchen, then vanished through the other doorway.

He watched her go, his heart sinking slightly. Not really sure why he was so wound up about Yvette, he sat back on the couch, trying to hide his disappointment. He had hoped for some kind of breakthrough to her, but after Robert's untimely appearance, it would probably be awhile before the young girl felt comfortable enough to try to open up again.

"Ah, you kids and your boundless energy," the older man chuckled, unknowing of the girl's near-attempt to speak. "How are we doing this morning? Seems I missed the flurry of action that left us alone today."

Jono absently shrugged. _"Eh. It's the usual. Emplate's being a pain in our arse again."_

Robert still had to get used to someone talking directly in his head. It was starkly different from actually hearing a voice, as the words simply became more like an understood thought than actual soundwaves hitting the eardrum. Emma had taken the time to explain each of the students' abilities just so he wouldn't be surprised. But this was really the first time he had the change to "talk" with Jono.

Shaking off his uneasiness, he repeated, "Emplate?"

_ "One of the bad guys."_

"And here, I presumed that you were not superheroes. Young, powerful mutants chasing after a bad guy—that certainly sounds like superhero activity to me," Robert replied.

_"Well, this one is a little different and more personal…" _he responded, purposely evading a direct explanation. There really wasn't any reason not to tell him, but in Jono's simply didn't feel like launching into the complicated story that surrounded Emplate and their relationship with him.

Catching Jono's hesitance, Robert changed the subject. "I would offer you breakfast but…"

_ "Quite alright. It's the thought that counts. You enjoyin' the job so far?"_

"Well, being concerned about your kids' proper nutrition is quite a challenge. If Angelo and Jubilee aren't fighting over Sugar Bombs, you all zip out of here without a good, solid meal. With the energy you kids expend with school, training, and the random uses of your powers, you're burning quite the load of calories. That's why I've put more protein, whole grains, and energy-promoting foods in your diets."

_ "I heard Vincent an' Rico makin' mention of it. I guess they're into the workin' out thing."_

"And you're not?"

_ "Nah. The Danger Room is enough for me."_

"So what are your plans after this school?"

The question caught Jono off guard. No one had really asked him what he wanted to do, and he avoided asking himself that question. But now, as his surprised moment of silence turned into a full minute, he shook his head. _"I honestly don't know what else there is out there for mutants. We still face discrimination, and unless you can hide your power, getting a job in most places is near-impossible. Besides, powers like this…I have t' think that I was meant to do somethin' with them. Besides cripple people an' blow up half the school. If that means bein' an X-Man, then maybe I have to adjust to it an' live with it."_

"Well, if I could—" Robert began, but stopped abruptly as Vanessa clambered down the stairs, breath coming in short rasps. "Child, what is wrong? Did something happen?"

In between breaths, she barely managed to complete her sentence. "Mo—net, she—she's—go—ne—gone. Sorry, I—whew—I ran down here—_gasp_—"

_ "Gone? Didn't she go with—"_

"No," she quickly replied. It only took her another moment to catch her breath before she continued. "Mike was concerned that she was acting weird, and I hadn't seen her since the basketball game. He asked me to check on her before they left, since she was supposed to stay here. I figured I'd try to just talk to her about fashion or something like that. But the doors to her balcony were wide open."

_ "Bloody hell. If Emplate's runnin' around, she could be in danger."_

Robert said, "If she is in trouble, she could defend herself, considering her abilities. I'm honestly more worried for this Emplate person," he said with an air of levity, hoping to lighten the grave intensity that was settling over Jono and Vanessa. He knew that kind of feeling would only lead to rash decisions.

Vanessa replied, "She can take care of herself—you're right about that. But that doesn't mean that something won't catch her off guard. Where do you think she could have gone?"

Jono's lips tightened into a pensive line. _"My first and only guess would be to find Emplate."_

The butler shook his head, perplexed. "I don't understand. Why are you so nervous about this Emplate individual?"

Jono figured that they would know eventually, so he decided to give them the condensed version of their history. _"When I first arrived here, Emplate tried to kidnap me. And he nearly killed Paige. Later, we found that he kept Yvette as his prisoner, a constant food source for him."_

Vanessa scrunched her face in disgust. "Food source? Is he a—"

"Vampire. A mutant vampire," Robert answered.

_ "Exactly. But later, we found out something that complicated everything—Emplate is Monet's brother."_

Vanessa reeled as if she had been struck. "Wait. What? Are you serious?"

He nodded, but his mind was already racing through what needed to be done next. _"Robert, can you grab the kids and bring them all inside? Vanessa, call Lily and Gaia, and make sure they're okay. Have 'em head straight back here after dance class. I'll contact Sean an let 'im know that Monet may be in trouble. We don't need any surprises."_

Little did Jono know that a deadly surprise was already lurking within the walls of the school, ready to make its final move.

IV.

No matter how many times Emma Frost visited the main mansion, she was secretly amazed at the exquisite interior design and furnishings. The dark wood, combined with the finest silk and cloth created an atmosphere of regality, but it didn't have the feel of a museum. Despite never being a dear student of Charles Xavier and never living there, she felt a sense of home and belonging within the walls of the Institute.

She was pleasantly greeted at the door by Ororo Munroe, the X-Man known by her teammates as Storm, which was surprising, considering they didn't exactly have a smooth past together either. Honestly, there weren't many X-Men that Emma could honestly say she liked—or who liked her. She spent her time as the White Queen of the Hellfire Club manipulating, harassing, and usurping the efforts of the X-Men time and time again.

But it all came to an end when her machinations caused the death of the Hellions, teenaged mutants much like Generation X. Since then, Emma pledged never to allow such a thing to happen again, which is why she accepted the offer to become headmistress of the secondary school to the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. She, alongside Sean Cassidy, ran the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters and had twice as many students than when she ran the Massachusetts Academy.

And sometimes that meant twice as many headaches.

She and Ororo exchanged very generic pleasantries before Emma followed her to the headmaster's office. As they walked, she caught glimpses of some of the other X-Men: Shadowcat, Psylocke, Colossus, Dazzler, and a few others whose codenames escaped her.

Sitting on a couch in Charles's spacious office, she glanced out of the window, noting the darkening sky. _I thought the forecast said sunny weather all weekend,_ she thought, wondering if the sudden shift was entirely natural or a more ominous warning.

She attributed the foreboding feeling to the recent rash of kidnappings and the students' hypothesis. Three mutants taken within a twenty-hour period, almost in broad daylight. For them to have been taken so quickly could mean that something bad was right around the corner. While Sean took a team to the police station and another team went to the airport to meet Ambassador St. Croix, Emma left Jono in charge while she traveled to Salem Center to confer with Charles.

Before she had the chance to ponder over the situation more, she felt someone familiar enter the room.

"Emma," Charles began as his motorized wheelchair rolled quietly through the office, coming to a stop near the couch. "I apologize for the wait. Some things needed my immediate attention, and your visit was quite a surprise. It's unusual for you to come all the way up here unannounced."

She cracked a slight smile. "Well, I could have simply waited until you went to sleep and given you a psychic wakeup call, but I decided against it, opting for the pleasure of being in the presence of the astonishing X-Men."

"Your sarcastic wit has not gone dull," Charles smiled. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Emma straightened the sleeve of her white blouse and crossed her legs before answering. "Honestly, I'm concerned. The kidnappings—"

"I know," his brows arched with deep concern. "Jean brought it to my attention. I didn't want to ask you to get involved."

"A sudden change of heart from your normal practice of thrusting us right in the middle of peril? That's not the Charles I know. Have you been replaced by one of those hideous Skrull aliens?"

He smiled, amused with Emma's uncharacteristic humor. "I wanted to respect your wishes—you were absolutely right to have your students focus on academics and learning more about their gifts. I do fear that the kidnappings are a prelude to something much bigger and dangerous."

"That's why I'm here. As much as it pains me to, I'd like to ask that if your X-Men aren't flying around the world in the next hour that they accompany me back to Snow Valley for an investigation."

"I can sense you're holding back. What has happened?"

"Ambassador St. Croix—we found out that he was coming into town unannounced. That's highly unusual, which to me means one thing."

"Emplate."

"Precisely. He almost killed Paige, he imprisoned and tortured Yvette, he tried to kidnap Jono, and terrorized the students countless times. I don't want them going toe-to-toe with someone that has no hesitation to harm them. I won't let him turn into our version of Magneto, a madman that just keeps returning and endangering the school with whatever personal agenda he's after."

Charles touched the tips of his fingertips together and rested his elbows on the arms of the wheelchair. But he let the silence between them speak for itself. Only after a few minutes did Emma visibly relax, her shoulders gaining a gentler, delicate slope, but her blue eyes gained an intensity that he hadn't quite seen before.

"Charles, I'm afraid. I'm afraid that he's fully capable and willing to kill any of the kids. I vowed to never let that happen to my students ever again. I will do everything in my power to keep them safe. This isn't about me. They deserve to live long lives—longer than the Hellions were able to."

"We won't let anything happen to the students. I'll send a team down with you. Emplate—Marius St. Croix—he needs our help, not punishment."

"He doesn't qualify as another one of your charity cases. We don't need another Sabretooth incident. And I have little desire to spend my time trying to rehabilitate a monster like that. Now, ask me to incapacitate him, I'm all ears."

"His mind has been corrupted by his mutation. We have a responsibility to try to help him."

"If he proves worth helping…maybe. And though I loathe the lofty attitude of your X-Men, I appreciate their intervention."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say that you wanted to join the team."

"I'd rather have my skin turn to diamond."

"Scott's already pulling together a team. They'll take you back in the Blackbird—it will be much faster than driving back."

"I'll make sure they get back in one piece," Emma smiled and stood, signaling her departure. "And Charles," she said, "thank you."

He nodded, knowing that beneath the cold exterior of the White Queen was a worried mother figure that would do anything to keep her kids safe. But he wondered how far she would be willing to go to protect them? And would that ultimately put them at odds?

Charles hoped that this situation was something low-key that would be dealt with swiftly, but his intuition told him that this encounter with Emplate would not go like they thought. He sent the heavy-hitters…he knew they would be needed for the protection of the school and for the protection of the town. His intuition seldom proved wrong, so now, it was just a matter of waiting to see how things developed.

V.

"Five, six, seven, eight," Stevie Hunter called as she clapped her hands in time to the rhythm of the upbeat music echoing through the dance studio. She studied each girl intently as they launched into their practiced routine, their bodies moving smoothly when needed and sharply at precisely the right time. The spins were tight without a falter and the kicks were high and synchronous with each other. She couldn't help but smile as the girls ended the dance with a final, individual pose, showing off each of their personalities through their bodies—the entire premise of dancing.

It had been years since she had a class this full, and the challenge of teaching twenty-two girls was refreshing. Her dance studio in Berkshire County had a few attendees, most of whom were simply loyal to Stevie and enjoyed the activity. However, the joining of new students had declined over the past few years. Mentioning it one day over lunch, Charles Xavier suggested opening an additional school near Snow Valley, which was a smart move considering the heavy teenage population and lack of any other dance studios within at least fifty miles. She initially baulked at the idea, but now, she was glad to have taken the challenge.

"Girls, that was excellent! You're starting to feel the music, letting your bodies flow with the sound. It's not just a dance routine, but an expression of how the music moves your soul. That concludes the lesson for today, but make sure to come next time with a URL to a choreographer that you like, and we'll critique and discuss next lesson."

The room immediately burst into excited chatter from the girls as they departed the center of the floor to their bags lining the perimeter of the room. Stevie watched as her two newest students, Lily Madison and Gaia Sophronia approached her.

"So," Stevie began with a smile, "how do you like the class?"

Wiping the sweat from her brow, Gaia took a deep breath. "'Tis fine tutelage you provide, bringing sweat to my forehead and bosom."

If not for the girl's serious expression, Stevie would have busted out laughing. Instead, she took a more mentoring approach. "Gaia, I don't think you should quite mention anything about your bosom in a public forum."

She gasped, completely taken aback. "Am I to be ashamed of my feminine figure?"

"No, I don't think she quite means that," Lily interjected, but knew that trying to explain would only convolute the situation even more. With a bright smile, she turned the attention back to their instructor. "But she's right—you're a really great teacher."

"Child, I've been doing this for a long time. I absolutely love dancing, but my knee injury kept me from continuing in the professional circuit. So, I decided to pass what I could of my skills to the next generation. What about the both of you? Why dance?"

"It's a manner of expressing one's freedom. I cannot say that I have had much of that…" Gaia wistfully answered. A deep sadness flashed across her eyes, barely noticeable to anyone except Lily, but she quickly willed it away, replaced with her usual smile. "I can only hope to dance as the gypsies and fairies of the forest."

Stevie was ready to reply, but a giggle and wink from Lily stopped her. Instead, she smiled in return, "Well, young lady, we'll just have to see if we can teach you some of those moves. And what about you?"

"Jubilee told me about this class. Since we're new here, she figured it would be a good way for us to make friends. Mr. Cassidy agreed, but I'm not sure Ms. Frost really liked the idea."

"Well, tell Jubilee that she's welcome back anytime. She was a natural. And don't worry about it, Sean was absolutely right. This is a great way for you to meet some of the locals. You're still young, so you should have a little bit of responsible fun. And I definitely consider this responsible fun." She turned and grabbed her bag, then continued, "It's a bit of a drive for me, so I have to run. But I hope to see you girls next weekend. And bring a friend!"

"We will. And thanks," Lily waved as Stevie returned the gesture, heading out of the studio behind a chatty group. "I'm really glad you came with me, Gaia."

"Tis of no consequence. I too enjoyed the gyrations and undulations of my body, never have I quite heard such enchanting music. Jubilee, Jono, and Angelo usually play melodies that portray much more angst and distress."

Lily thought for a moment. "Well, they do listen to a bit of alternative rock, so that makes sense. But there's lots of great music out there! Even the alternative stuff can be enjoyable—you just have to really listen to it. Do you have a favorite kind of music?"

Gaia shook her head. "I really don't talk about this much, but everything is brand new for me. I can't remember anything of my previous life, only being chained to some contraption that was said to be some kind of universal amalgamator."

Lily noted that Gaia's voice was low, and her usual speech mannerisms disappeared. Curious, she asked, "Why were you chained to it?"

"I don't know."

"What happened when you were unchained?"

"That's the strange thing about it. I thought that I was some kind of guard for it or something, and I really didn't think it could be destroyed. But when Everett rescued me, the entire construction collapsed. So, I guess it was destroyed. But I have no memories of my family or friends. Nothing."

"Well, let's just make new memories for you, okay?"

"I like the sound of that, Lily. And maybe Vanessa's right. Maybe I should just drop the Roman-speak."

"Do what makes you happy. I actually like it. It's what makes you special and unique. If you like it, then you should keep doing it."

Gaia's eyes wandered thoughtfully toward the ceiling. There was a moment of silence, then she smiled. "I've decided! I shall continue to champion my heritage as a Roman descendent!"

Both girls burst into laughter, before grabbing their bags and heading out of the dance studio, completely unaware that the levity they shared would come to an abrupt end within the hour.

VI.

Sean Cassidy gripped the wheel of his jeep and cruised around a bend in the road. Though he should have been worried about the deer that frequently bolted from the thick lines of trees lining either side of the two-lane road, he was more concerned with getting him and his charges to the police station to share some vital information.

Three of his students relayed a connection between three kidnappings that occurred in the past twenty-four hours—all of them were mutants, teens that could control natural elements. Kiana Asahara observed this detail almost immediately, after Rico Vidal pulled up dossiers on all three victims.

At first, they attributed the kidnappings to the Arminthorpe Corporation, a sinister, clandestine group whose pursuit of the students and possible kidnapping of their mentor remained an unsolved mystery. But Rico indicated that one of the victims was Craig Taylor, an enemy Generation X faced when they infiltrated the Arminthorpe Corporation headquarters. To further validate this, none other than Richard Arminthorpe himself visited the school and requested their aid in finding the young man.

Though reluctant, Sean agreed to find Craig. Recruiting Michael Lawson, Paige Guthrie, and Ethan Callaghan, along with Kiana Asahara, they all left the school in hopes of providing some lead for the Snow Valley Police Department. Though talkative at first, the students grew quiet and pensive, which concerned Sean.

But before he said anything, Paige said, "Mr. Cassidy, I really don't know how to say this. But, I—I don't know. Ms. Frost has been kind of intense lately. I mean, she's our teacher, and I don't want to talk bad about her. But I think she hates us, and I can't figure out why or what changed."

Taken aback, Sean paused for a moment. She had a point—Emma's criticism had become much sharper, and outwardly, she seemed less passionate. But he also continually observed Emma's growing concern and care for the students, even the newest batch. He knew that the cold, no-nonsense demeanor was just a façade, hoping to teach the kids through some tough love.

Sean finally responded. "Ye worry too much, lass. Emma's rough around th' edges. But deep down, she cares fer all o' ye. And she's worried. Same as me."

"It's just so hard to tell with her these days," Paige said, absently staring out of the passenger side window.

"We don't want t' see th' lot o' ye hurt or worse. Ye have t' admit that ye all manage t' get inta quite a bit o' trouble."

"Nine times out of ten, it isn't exactly our fault. We don't go looking for Emplate, Omega Red, Bastion, or any other weird mutant that wants to rule the world. Or whatever it is that bad guys always want to do."

He softened his voice. "Ach! Ah know. We jus' want ye all t' live yuir lives as best ye can. We dinnae want t' fail ye."

She recalled that Sean didn't have the opportunity to raise his own daughter, Theresa. Rearing the kids of Generation X was like a second chance at fatherhood, and she realized that just like them, he was continually learning too.

In a way, Paige admired Sean for his compassion, and almost saw him as a second father figure. Emma, on the other hand, was difficult for Paige to read. Her compassion only surfaced in mere glimpses, micro-moments when she let her shields down, which Paige noticed was quite rare.

Ethan added from the back seat, "You're doing great so far, Mr. Cassidy."

Michael thought about chiming in, but he instead stayed silent, fixated on the ominously dark sky above. Dark clouds blotted out the morning sky, casting everything in a gray haze. The dreary atmosphere created dark shadows and shapes, hiding something sinister within their shifting void. Unnerved, he chastised himself for being jumpy and returned to the conversation.

"So, any ideas on anyone else that would want to kidnap elemental mutants?" Michael asked.

"No clue yet, lad. Tis a strange coincidence though. Until we know more about the kidnapper's intent, we cannae jump t' conclusions."

Michael nodded in agreement, though internally, he disagreed. The three kidnapped mutants could control elements of nature, leaving only two left: Rico and Vincent. And he was sure that Emplate was somehow tied into this whole thing. It was just too much of a coincidence that the kidnappings occurred, and Nicole's story of Emplate unfolded within the same twenty-four hour period. Coupled with Monet's odd behavior, he was certain that everything was related, though to anyone else, the three were separate, autonomous events.

He glanced out of the window and watched as the trees thinned out, replaced with houses spaced quite far apart. Eventually, the expansive houses grew closer together, creating a quaint residential area, which then transitioned into the business area of Snow Valley.

The town resembled any other small town in America, having its fair share of chain restaurants and retail shops. But there was a good number of locally owned eateries and markets, all fanning out from the town square. Most of the buildings modeled with old English-style architecture, made of red brick with sloping, shingled roofs. Despite the retirement feel of Snow Valley, there was a good share of teenagers and young adults, which kept the town vibrant and lively.

As they entered the city, couples and groups of kids strolled up and down either side of the road. Michael wondered why so many people were out, then remembered that there was a festival, set up in the town square. If not for the recent turn of events, he would have asked to check it out. He could only hope that their stop by the police station proved useful and settling, which then, he'd try to convince Sean to let them go.

Sean pulled into the parking lot of the two-story facility, passing a large sign reading _Snow Valley Police Department_. He easily found a space close to the front doors, and within the next two minutes, they entered the building, greeted by a friendly face at the front desk.

"Good morning, Mr. Cassidy," the receptionist greeted cheerfully. She punctuated her statement with a broad smile, which crinkled her button nose and the corners of her eyes in a innocently attractive way. "Mike knows where Chief Authier's office is. Y'all can go straight up. He's expecting you."

"Of course he is," Michael mumbled. It was only on his last trip to the police station that he discovered that Chief Authier seemed to have some kind of telepathic ability, which in retrospect explained quite a few things Michael had picked up on with his recent interactions with him.

He didn't resent him for his abilities—if anything, he respected the fact that Chief Authier had been able to conceal his power, yet effectively control it, and use it for the benefit of society. But he did hate the fact that the Chief seemed to always have some kind of knowing advantage every time they were involved in a situation.

He fell in behind Sean and Paige, while Ethan and Kiana brought up the rear. All around them, various police officers in uniform and in normal clothes moved briskly through the hallways, most focused on whatever task they had at the forefront of their mind. It took a little more effort on Michael's part not to inadvertently pickup their thoughts.

His classes with Jean Grey-Summers definitely taught him skills and tricks regarding his various mental abilities, things he never would have learned on his own. One of the main things he was thankful to learn was how to block out all the random thoughts floating in the air like a thick fog. She explained that being a strong telepath had its positives and negatives. And one of those negatives happened to be a hyper-sensitivity to others' thoughts, which is why she taught him how to block them out, with the warning that more effort had to be exerted if they were in a confined space or in a crowd.

"So," Sean said, noting Michael's pensive expression and his demeanor earlier. "Ah take it ye discovered that yuir Chief has some abilities of his own."

"You knew?"

"Aye. We've known fer a while now. But he prefers t' keep his abilities close hold. It may have somethin' t' do with his work the FBI."

"I haven't heard of him mentioning it before."

"There may be a reason for that," Sean replied, seeing the parallels to his own life as a policeman and an Interpol agent. Though an integral part of his life, he chose to keep that part of his past away from the students and even some of the newer X-Men. He didn't see it as a matter of keeping secrets, but rather keeping his attention on the current chapter of his life as opposed to dwelling on history.

Michael led the group up the stairs, then down a short hallway to Chief Authier's office, which was a stark contrast to what they expected. Neat, orderly, and clean, the second-floor corner office had several windows, which let the morning sun stream in. The aroma of fresh coffee and hot biscuits filled the room, and he looked up from his food with a friendly grin as he politely stood.

He extended his hand to each of them, adding a greeting to every shake. "We've been seeing each other way too much, Sean. Michael, it's good to see you. There hasn't been any more trouble, has there, Paige? Ethan and Kiana, right? Glad you're here too. Sorry, I was just trying to finish up real quick," he motioned for everyone to sit on the couch opposite his desk or to take a seat in the plush, cloth chairs on either side. "If you don't mind, I'm going to eat quickly, while you catch me up on what's going on."

Sean quickly brought him up to speed on the current situation, explaining their hypothesis and what they actually knew at this point. Dan listened intently as he ate, saving his questions for the conclusion of the details.

"So, basically," Dan recapped, "you're saying that the three kidnapped teens are mutants? And they all happen to control natural elements?"

"That's what we're saying," Sean answered, his expression serious.

"Then your own students are in danger too."

"Aye. We've considered that possibility as well."

"Well, I should be the one to tell you that there was some kind of situation at the airport about thirty minutes ago. I sent Elias and Brad to check things out. Their initial report shows that there was a kidnapping immediately following the arrival of a flight."

Paige nearly leaped out of her seat as her stomach dropped. "Flight 1604? Please don't say it was Ambassador St. Croix!"

Dan nodded. "Yeah. Exactly. Something tells me that this was more than just a simple disturbance. And the fact that you know something about it, makes me worry that we're neck-deep in some kind of trouble. Again."

"Dammit," Sean's hand clenched into a frustrated fist. "This could be th' worse timin' ever. What th' hell does he want with Cartier?"

Michael chimed in. "The Ambassador's kidnapping doesn't correlate with the others. It's almost like there are two different plans developing."

The headmaster rubbed his goatee thoughtfully. "Ye may be ont' somethin' lad. The other three people who were kidnapped are mutants. But still, considering it's a kidnapping like all the others, we can make the assumption that they're related, especially with the short timeframe they've all occurred. The only one Ah know who would be interested in the Ambassador would be Emplate."

Michael's breath caught. It was only this morning that he learned of Emplate's relation to Monet and the twins…and to him. It was almost as if his cousins knew that something was going to happen. But how would the information they gave him help?

"Emplate?" Dan questioned, noticing the shift in tension at the mention of the name.

Paige explained, "He's a dangerous mutant, almost like a vampire. He feeds on the bone marrow of mutants, which would explain why the mutants were kidnapped. Cartier is his father, so that could be the reason he was taken. But I suppose that something larger is going on—it's not like the Ambassador to come into town unannounced. The only reason why we knew is because we got a somewhat anonymous tip."

Quiet up to this point, Kiana added, "I'm personally concerned because if this Emplate can utilize these elemental powers in tandem, and if he knows anything about dark magic, he could cast very dangerous, deadly spells."

Dan was stunned by what he heard. Not only was there another dangerous mutant, but they also had an Ambassador kidnapped. He knew that it was only a matter of time before this became a national headline. And even with speculation, there was really no telling how dangerous Emplate was. "What help do you need from us?" he offered.

Sean said, "Right now, just damage control. And if ye can keep people off th' streets, that would be a large help. I dinnae want anyone else t' become a victim of circumstance." "We can do that."

Michael prepared to interject but before he could, he heard a distant voice echo in his head. Only a fraction of a second later, the echo turned into a boisterous bellow reverberating within his head.

_"EMPLATE! ALDINE FOREST! HELP!"_

Though only lasting a moment, the plea made Michael's head throb, and darkness closed in from the corners of his eyes. A trickle of warmth touched his lip, and when he wiped the back of his hand across, he noticed a streak of crimson. Blood. For all of his power, his body still couldn't handle sudden high-level burst of telepathic or telekinetic energy.

Sean noticed Michael pitch forward out of his chair and was at his side in no time. "Lad, what's wrong? Are ye hurt?"

"Whoever was in trouble was desperate. And a strong telepath. It was a cry for help. I heard it too," Dan said, rubbing out the dull pain at his temple.

"Monet," Michael edged out between pulses of pain. "She's in trouble. Something about Aldine Forest."

Despite his own pain, he attempted to reach back to Monet telepathically, backtracking along the thought signature of her initial broadcast. He didn't have time to figure out how he knew to do it, let alone accomplish it, but he did so and found that Monet was unconscious. Normally, he shouldn't have been able to remotely view someone that was knocked out, but Monet somehow maintained a semblance of consciousness. And through an omniscient set of eyes, he saw Emplate, Wrap, Bulwark, Vincente, and D.O.A. hovering over Monet.

Just as quick as the image flashed before his eyes, it vanished, the connection with Monet severed. She had given them a slight advantage, giving him a brief glimpse of who they were fighting and where they were.

He revealed, "Emplate has her. She's in some kind of house or something. He's got four others with him. That's all I could see."

"Aye. Tis enough, lad. Jus' sit down fer a moment. Paige, can ye grab some ice?"

As Paige rushed out of the office, Sean guided Michael to a high-backed, leather chair, his cell phone vibrated in the pocket of his Celtics jacket. He waited until Michael was situated before pulling the sleek device out.

"Speakerphone and video on," he commanded, and almost instantly, Everett's face appeared on the screen. "Synch," Sean said, purposefully using codenames. Things had just gotten serious, and he needed the rest to be on their guard. "What's goin' on?"

"We were too late. Emplate took the Ambassador. The police were already at the airport."

"Dammit. M's in trouble too—Emplate. Where are ye headed now?"

"Well, Graylon Walsh, the reporter—"

"Ach! I remember th' lad."

"—said that there was someone else at the airport, Rich Cale. His sister is the one that called with the warning. That's the only lead we have right now. We're going to his hotel."

"Copy that. Ah'll get Emma an' th' others t' find M. She may be somewhere in Aldine Forest. Emplate's makin' his move. I need the lot o' ye t' be extremely careful. Report back t' me with anythin' ye find."

"Understood. Synch out."

Immediately, he dialed Emma's phone. "Emma—" Sean began.

"I know. Monet's been captured by Emplate. I felt her call for help. I'm heading back to the school now, fortunate enough to have brought some X-Men with me. Bishop. Phoenix. Wolverine. Nightcrawler. Cyclops. While en route, Kurt ran a topographical search of the forest and found an old, almost hidden mansion. Looks like Emplate may have been hiding right under our noses all this time."

"Aye. Synch and his team are investigatin' a lead in town. It seems that Cartier may have known something was goin' on. And he didn't come alone. They're looking for the lad that accompanied him, Rich Cale. We briefed Chief Authier on th' situation. We'll wrap up here an' head back t' th' school."

"I haven't been able to get in touch with anyone there. And there's some kind of psychic disturbance keeping us from contacting anyone there. If that St. Croix has done anything to the students…"

He heard the edge of worry in her voice, though she tried to hide it. But the sharp fangs of her anger were crystal clear. With the speed that everything had already happened, Sean couldn't give any reassurances that everything was fine. "We'll find th' monster, an' stop this once an' fer all."

"I hope so."

He barely hung up with Emma when a warning flashed across his screen. A map appeared on the screen followed by a small, flashing beacon. "Looks like someone activated the tracking device. Identify phone," Sean said.

"Enrique Vidal. Vital status, unconscious."

"What?!"

Sean watched as the beacon disappeared and reappeared several times, heading in an eastward direction. Towards Aldine Forest.

"It's Rico and Vincent, isn't it?" Kiana gasped. She didn't even think about her own warning when Rico offered to take Vincent into the city earlier this morning. They were targets, and their capture only validated her theory from earlier. But it was too late—they had lost two more of their teammates to whatever scheme was unfolding.

"Dammit!" Sean hit the table, frustrated.

Michael shook his head. "There was one other thing, Sean. Monet—she said that no matter what we do, we're too late."

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional.

Richard Cale, Godiva Cale, Kai Matougi, and Rimo are all based on characters created by Richard Sampson, who has stories posted as well

Aotrs Commander – Trust me, I know how busy life can get in general, hence the long time between my postings. Yes, we are seeing much more of the quasi-Hellions of Emplate! I agree that they were sorely underused, so I thought it would be perfect to bring them into the storyline as his dirty little helpers. Thanks for the review as usual, and I hope you like this chapter as well!

Rich – Thanks for the feedback! Since the blackouts were still occurring in my story, and I don't think I explained it in the old one, I figured it was time to wrap up that loose thread. I really think this Emplate storyline is shaping up better than the older one. I'm really enjoying writing this one so far, and I think it will continue to get better (or worse for our GenXers). And I didn't realize you had actually been to Logan Airport! I've never been, so I had to make that one up, combining it with the other airports I've been to. Let me know what you think of this chapter!


	36. Emplate's Revenge, Part 4

I.

"Nicole want to play more with Leech and Artie?" The green-skinned youngster rocked on his heels, a huge grin in anticipation of whatever new game he had created. Artie peeked over his shoulder, creating a three-dimensional image of a smiley face along with his own broad smile.

Before answering, she shot her sister a glance, wondering if they should even be outside of the school, instead safely nestled behind the walls and security system. Only moments ago, they were all playing outside without incident when suddenly, Claudette panicked, telepathically alerting to some looming peril, but wouldn't explain any other details. Startled, Nicole feigned dire thirst, then escorted her sister inside, past the kitchen, past Jono, Vanessa, and Robert talking amongst each other, up to their room.

Once there, Claudette said nothing else, but the feeling of trepidation lingered with both sisters. She hoped that it was nothing more than a false alarm, but something that strong and serious couldn't be overlooked.

Nicole continued to wait for her sister to elaborate on what she meant. If nothing more was revealed, she couldn't continue to seclude them without further explanation, and there was no way she wanted to panic the others without having more to tell them.

Putting on a smile, she replied to Leech, "Sounds like a good idea. We just needed to take a little break. We'll meet you downstairs, okay?"

After a whoop from Leech, the duo dashed back down the hallway, their heavy footsteps diminishing. Down a little farther, she heard Franklin Richards join them, and the three of them took off, making quite a commotion as they went down the stairs.

She hated lying to him, but she wasn't quite sure of Claudette's strange behavior herself. And there was no need in getting everyone worried, especially her playmates, so, she didn't see any reason to potentially ruin the fun that they were having.

Nicole enjoyed Leech's company, as he could talk about any and everything. Artie usually added a quick three-dimensional holographic projection as an addition to the conversation, to punctuate an idea, or to simply add his own small piece. Franklin was fun too, and extremely intelligent, which reminded her of Monet, but without the attitude.

When she turned her attention back to her twin, Claudette had a piece of paper and a pen, now drawing something with an almost frightening urgency. She hesitantly approached her sister, who was incredibly focused, and peered over her shoulder. Instead of the normal brightly colored shapes and designs she usually created, a dark figure with bony claws for hands seemed to reach off the page for her. In the background were more unfamiliar, yet frightening, figures, cloaked in dark pen strokes.

"Claudette, what is that? Why are you drawing something like that?" Nicole asked.

In a rare moment of clarity, Claudette turned toward her sister and blinked. "Emplate. He's coming."

Nicole froze, surprised at her sister's lucidity and the revelation that accompanied it. Just hearing the name Emplate sent a chill down her spine. There was no doubt of her sister's prediction, though she was tempted to ask again just to make sure. Instead, she gripped her sister's hand tightly, and without waiting for Claudette to explain further, she led her out of the room, leaving the horrible drawing behind.

But once in the hallway, Claudette pulled against Nicole, stopping them abruptly, and refused to progress any further.

Turning toward her sister, Nicole asked, "What's wrong? We have to tell someone. If Emplate gets here—"

"Much too late, little sister," a gravelly voice croaked from somewhere down the hallway.

She sucked in a breath and held it, hoping that the voice heard was nothing more than a horrible figment of her imagination. But when she turned in that direction, her heart skipped a beat, and she slowly retreated as claws emerged from a mysterious darkness enveloping the hallway.

"Emplate," Nicole whispered, her voice feeble and shaky. As he advanced, his full frame visible, she understood why Claudette's only thought was _monster_.

Piercing red eyes peered at the twins from a face of wrinkled, gray skin. His breathing was audible through the respirator attached to the lower half of his face, and his dark, spiked hair swayed gently in a hot breeze coming from nowhere in particular. And his rough, raspy voice had a dangerous edge to it, nothing like the firm, friendly voice of their brother.

"Dear, sisters," Emplate said, "It's time for you to come home."

Nicole mustered false courage. "We're not going anywhere with you!"

He laughed, a low, throaty sound that startled both girls. "You really don't have a choice. We can do this the easy way...or the hard way."

Without hesitation, Nicole gripped her sister's hand even tighter and took off in a full sprint in the direction opposite of Emplate, tapping into her developing super-strength and speed. She dispersed her energy between the two acts: her strength kept Claudette from being dead weight as she practically dragged behind, and her speed would hopefully put distance between them and Emplate—enough time to alert the others that something was wrong and launch an offensive against him.

Claudette finally managed to focus and carried her own weight, sprinting as fast as she could behind her sister. But she still couldn't concentrate enough to use her powers effectively, let alone merge with her sister.

The twins dashed through the hallway, focused on escaping. Their footsteps thudded through the hallway, and they huffed heavily as they rounded a sharp corner, nearly running into Artie and Leech. Franklin barely dodged the collision, chuckling at the accident.

"Nicole and Claudette take too long! And clumsy!" Leech shot.

She glanced around, panicked, sure that Emplate was right on their heels. But the hallway behind her was empty. Still, she could feel his darkness lurking somewhere close. "We have to get out of here! My brother—Emplate is—"

"Come now, don't ruin the surprise, little sister," the gravelly voice again seemed to originate from all around them, as a clawed hand reached from the shadows.

"Run!" Nicole commanded.

Luckily, the children knew danger when it came along and obeyed her urgent order without hesitation. Leading the way, Artie and Leech reached the top of the stairs with Nicole, Claudette, and Franklin right on their heels. They stopped briefly, spying Jono and Vanessa talking to the butler with a sense of urgency.

"Jono! Vanessa!" Nicole called, drawing their attention before clambering down the stairs, nearly falling over each other. But about hallway down, much to their horror, Emplate melted into existence, blocking their path.

"Oh my god," Vanessa gasped as a monster faded into existence. Surprised, she caught her balance as a wave of dizziness hit her from trying to comprehend what she was seeing. Never had she seen something so menacing and horrific. And it was threatening the children. "Get away from them!"

"Creepy bad guy no hurt friends!" Leech exclaimed as he threw himself at Emplate. He knew that his unique powers granted him the ability to negate mutant abilities, similar to Ethan, but in order for it to work, he had to be within close proximity of his target. If he could negate this intruder's powers, even for a moment, he was sure that Jono could successfully land an attack.

"Pesky children."

A well-timed backhand sent Leech sailing over the rail, his power never quite reaching Emplate. And as he tumbled head over heels, he regretted his rather rash move.

"I've got him," Robert said as he launched forward unexpectedly, and with speed much faster than a normal person, he was underneath the tumbling boy, then caught him as they both fell to the ground.

"Shield the kids," Jono commanded.

Summoning her Darkforce powers, Vanessa held her hands in front of her as she ignited her unexplainable connection to a form of energy fueled by darkness. At her mental command, an ebon wall erupted from the ground between Emplate and the other kids. A solid and thick construct, it climbed from the stairs to the ceiling in mere seconds, creating a sturdy barrier to hopefully delay Emplate and protect the kids.

While Emplate was distracted by the wall, Jono focused his biokinetic energy into his hands then let it shoot as a concentrated blast at their intruder, but cursed as Emplate held out a single hand, creating some kind of invisible shield that totally deflected and absorbed the attack.

"My, my, how you've grown, Jono. You look even more delicious than the last time I saw you. And your beautiful companion looks tasty too."

Before he could make his next move, a blur of red intercepted him, and a hot flash of pain burst from his shoulder. He glanced down at the jagged rip in his outer garment, feeling his torn flesh slowly repairing itself. Genuinely surprised, his gaze fell to his attacker, who now crouched offensively on all fours, her hair standing on end and her normally friendly blue, pupil-less eyes filled with hatred and fury.

"Yvette, how I've missed you. A commendable attack, but you still haven't quite broken out of your shell, have you?"

"Down we go!" Nicole stated as she leaped over the balcony with her twin sister in tow. Artie and Franklin followed, slowed by a telekinetic nudge from Franklin.

Emplate observed the twins, the unfamiliar butler holding Leech, Jono, Vanessa, Franklin, and Yvette all unite as an ad hoc team, an eclectic blend of ages and talents, ready for a combined attack no matter his next move. Their auras glowed with varying luminescent lights, stirring the hunger within. But to feed wasn't his intention.

He said, "I suggest you pests stand down, let me collect what is mine. I'll forgive your impedance and leave without further conflict."

_"I don't know 'ow the 'ell you got in 'ere,"_ Jono said as his biokinetic energy rippled the surface of his skin and clothes, _"but you're not leaving. We're finishing this once an' fer all."_

Amused, Emplate's eyes narrowed. "That's not the way I planned it." Before anyone else could protest, he summoned the power churning deep within his body. The combination of fire, wind, water, earth, and lightning created a foreign energy projection, a glow of undulating black fire under his command. In the next second, a wave of concentrated energy shot forward, carrying with it a wind that threw the entire room into disarray and flattened the entire group. As quickly as the energy appeared, it vanished, dissipated into the atmosphere, changing form into something as harmless as the air.

It wasn't his intent to destroy the school, though he could have very easily. He could have done much worse to the group of Xavier residents, but he did not. His goal was simple—he came for his family. And just as he planned it, he would leave with his family.

On cue, Bulwark and Wrap teleported into the school, only a few feet from Emplate.

"Bring my sisters along," he said, not taking his eyes off the fallen. He thought about it for another moment then added, "And Yvette. When you're done, I want the both of you to find Richard Cale. Do with him what you will, but ensure he does not interfere."

"What about the other X-brats?" Bulwark asked.

"They are of no consequence. There is nothing any of them can do. The time is near...do as I command. And let no one stop you. My plan will now come to fruition..."

II.

"Okay, so what's the plan?" Graylon Walsh asked from his place behind the driver's seat. Pushing his blond bangs from his forehead, he leaned forward impatiently looking specifically at Everett for an answer.

Jubilee rolled her eyes, her dissatisfaction with their guest shining brightly. "Why doncha jus' like chill out? We can't jus' waltz in tha spot like we own tha place. 'Sides, they're totally not gonna give us any kinda info. Especially ta you…you look mad suspect, you know?"

Lacking the desire to debate or even answer the question, Everett slowed the car then parked. Stepping out of the car, he noticed a cooler breeze swaying branches and rustling leaves as dark clouds approached from the distance. The ominous change in weather didn't sit well with him, and he suddenly wanted to find Cartier and Monet. Fast.

He turned his attention toward Esperance Manor, the looming, five-story hotel on the western outskirts of Snow Valley. An elegant, Victorian design, the building seemed out of place when compared with the more modern styles of the surrounding structures. However, everyone appreciated the stark difference in architecture and marveled at the intricate designs carved into the stone walls. Even the landscaping, wrought with massive oak trees, other deciduous plant life, and colorful blossoms was a standout feature amongst the adjacent, modest land.

Esperance Manor was well-known for being a hidden jewel of a vacation spot for affluent patrons who relished the seclusion, which was why it was no surprise that Rich Cale had a hotel room there instead of downtown. Normally, he would have loved to simply admire the hotel, but there was no time to enjoy his first trip there. Instead, with his mind set on finding the mysterious Englishman, he turned to the others, his mind still churning through various options.

Angelo was around Everett in enough tense situations to know when he was pondering over a plan. When he saw a slight change in his teammate's expression, he asked, "So, how you wanna do this, hombre?"

Everett explained, "Jubes and I will get the info from the front desk. Wait for us at the elevator. You'll know what to do when you see us."

Graylon threw his hands in the air, exasperated. "What? That's it?! Wait by the elevator, and we'll figure out what to do?!"

"Yeah, why doncha chill out? That's totally what he jus' said," Jubilee snapped. "Yer gettin' all worked up over nothin'...when I was like in tha X-Men, we did this sorta thing all tha time. Besides, aren't ya jus' along fer tha ride anyways, blondie?" she asked, still slightly annoyed with Graylon's presence.

"I should have known—"

"Hey," Clarice interrupted, "I thought Everett mentioned no attitude. And right now, I hear lots of it in your voice." She closed the gap between them aggressively, and her eyes narrowed in an angry glare, silently challenging Graylon.

He stood his ground, purely for the sake of displaying macho bravado, but really, he had no intention of fighting her. In all honesty, she would probably kick his ass. He was a good fighter, but there was something about the way she carried herself that completely set her apart from just being a fighter—it was something more instinctual. And deadly.

Everett shook his head and chuckled. "Play nice in the sandbox, share your toys, and don't throw sand in each other's eyes. We'll be right back." With a nod to Jubilee, he headed toward the reception area, following the indicated direction of gold-plated placards, while she joined him, trailing closely behind.

"Whatcha think about this Rich kid?" she asked.

Everett thought for a moment. "Not sure. But I have a feeling he has a piece of the puzzle that we've been missing all along with Emplate."

When they rounded the bronze fountain underneath a vaulted skylight, Everett asked, "You ready for this?"

"You like already know."

III.

"Hey, wake up!"

Rico Vidal swore that he was dreaming, as the urgent command resounded lazily through the darkness. It wasn't always an absolute void, but he couldn't quite remember the colors, patterns, or scenes that lingered on the edge of perception. It was comfortable, but he knew it wasn't real—there was something else going on around him. And it needed his full attention.

He forced open his eyes, only a crack at first, quickly adjusting to the dim light before opening them fully. A moan croaked out as he shifted his body and felt nothing but a deep aching from everywhere. Still unable to fully see, he gingerly sat up, only remotely aware of the chains and shackles weighing down his wrists and ankles.

"Why do I feel like I was trampled by a hundred elephants?" he said, the tendrils of daze still lingering.

"Don't worry," the same voice from earlier said, "You'll be okay. It'll go away soon. The first time is always the worst. I guess you're a mutant too?"

The question pulled Rico into full consciousness, the disorientation completely gone, and he glanced in the direction of the voice to find another male, presumably close to his age, chained to the wall only a few feet away. Though the room was dim, he could make out the blonde's friendly face, muscled physique, and casual clothes.

"I didn't realize it was tattooed across my forehead," he replied. Just then, he spied Vincent, unconscious, on the other side of the room. Two other males were on either side of him, one sprawled out, unmoving, while the other sat up, quite alert. "Jason Tate, Craig Taylor, and Tyson Sullivan. The three of you disappeared about twenty-four hours ago. Kidnapped. And now, we are too."

"So word has gotten out," Jason mentioned, from his place next to Vincent. He flexed his limbs and shook off his disorientation, as his dark eyes studied Rico and Ty. He ran his fingers through his messy, dark auburn hair, but the yank of the chains attached to his wrist sharply reminded him of his limited motion.

Rico explained, "The sleepy redhead there and I are from the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. We came across the news story, and we planned on investigating. One of our teammates suspected that someone was gathering mutants with elemental powers. Water, earth, fire, wind, and lightning. I've got the wind, and Vinnie can control fire. Question is, who's our kidnapper?"

There was an ominous silence as the other two dropped their eyes.

"A monster," Ty flatly replied.

The silence afterward eradicated the idea that he was joking, and a chill ran down Rico's back.

Jason quickly added, "From what I can tell, he's some kind of vampire thing with these weird mouths on his hands."

Rico narrowed his eyes, already formulating a hypothesis as he remembered seeing a mutant with that same descriptive characteristic. "Mouths on his hands? Spiky hair? Respirator?"

Energetically, Ty nodded. "Yeah, how did you know?"

"His name is Emplate" he responded. "And we're in serious trouble. If Kiana's right, he may be trying to do something like dark magic with our powers."

"Wait," Jason interrupted, his thin lips curved into a hard frown. "You mean to tell me that monster is somehow using our powers to create magic? It's enough to digest that I have these abnormal powers, but then to throw some magic mumbo-jumbo on top of that—don't you think it's a bit much? It doesn't even make sense."

Rico had to admit that he had a valid point. The part about the magic seemed like a stretch now that he thought back to it. But with Kiana's knowledge about the arcane and Emplate's powerful nature, maybe it wasn't too far-fetched that someone could combine mutant powers and magic. Regardless, the fact of the matter was that Emplate believed he could, which put them in harm's way.

"I know how it sounds, but right now, that's all we have to go on."

As Vincent stirred to life, Rico breathed an internal sigh of relief, thankful that someone else who shared his perspective would be able to support him and maybe help convince the others. He watched as his teammate gingerly sat up, massaging his right forearm.

"What the hell happened?" he asked.

"Apparently, we've been captured and fed on by a mutant vampire. It was scheduled right after the mummy's cameo appearance."

Normally, Vincent would have sourly retorted back, but his head throbbed too much to even formulate words. Instead, he just groaned in protest and clinched his eyes closed, hoping the pain and nausea would pass.

On the other side of him, Craig moved slightly, a painful groan escaping his throat as he sat up. He looked around, disoriented, then he settled on Vincent and Rico with a scowl. "You two? What the hell are you two doing here?"

"Umm…kidnapped, just like you," Rico threw back at him. "What kind of question is that? Like we'd be here just to hang out with you."

"You X-Kids probably already knew what was happening. You could have at least given us a heads up."

"The last time I checked, Riptide, you and your goon comrades almost killed us. I didn't think we were really on talking terms," Rico answered, not really wanting to argue, but finding himself infuriated with Craig's attitude.

Jason halted the quip. "It seems like you guys have history, but if we're going to get out of here, you'll have to put it aside, at least for now. All five of us are trapped, and we're going to have to work together to get out of here."

"Whatever. They—" Craig began, but Vincent cut him off.

"Seriously, cut the shit and get over your Arminthorpe brainwashing. There's no time for that bullshit right now, in case you didn't hear what that kid said," Vincent spat.

"It's Jason," he corrected, uncaring of potentially incurring Vincent's wrath.

But he said nothing in reply to Jason or Craig, simply settling into an angry glower.

"Don't worry about it," Rico said in response to Jason's concerned gaze. "He does that all the time. Now that we're done with the drama, let's figure out what we can do next. I set off a tracking device before we were captured, which should have sent an alert back to the school. I don't know how far away we are, but I'm sure that they're coming."

"They? As in the X-Men?"

It was a fair question, considering their connection to the parent team. But he was sure that something like this was way under their radar. Surely, Magneto was launching some kind of plan to blow up the world or something, so they were probably embroiled with that. For all intents and purposes, they were on their own.

"Well, kind of. Maybe. I don't know," he answered, disappointed that he couldn't definitively say anything about the X-Men's aid. "We've got a school of mutants that are powerful in their own right. We're dubbed Generation X, and we've got plenty of firepower to stop Emplate."

"Well, let's hope so," Ty said. "What are we going to do in the meantime? These chains are pretty sturdy, and we're all pretty weak from the monster feeding off us. There's no telling when that monster will be back...and next time it feeds on us, it may not stop."

In the next second the door to the basement swung open, and Rico thought that Ty's warning had actually come true—Emplate had come to finish sucking the life from them, ending their lives without a hint of regret. But a hulking figure came into view, and as his eyes adjusted, he spied Yvette slung over his shoulder.

"Oh no," Rico lamented, while catching a glance from Vincent. If this guy had Yvette, it probably meant the school itself was attacked. The safety of the rest of his friends became his primary concern, and when he glanced toward Vincent, his expression said that he was thinking the same thing.

As Bulwark crossed to the opposite side of the room to retrieve more restraints, he failed to notice Yvette stir slightly. The young girl opened her eyes briefly, glanced around nervously at first, but when she locked eyes with Rico, her composure returned.

She watched Rico point to his shackles, then glanced around at the others, who were imprisoned in the same way. She knew that something had to be done, but taking out Bulwark would be a challenge. Knowingly, Yvette winked at Rico, then feigned unconsciousness once again.

Understanding that she needed a distraction, Rico devised a quick plan in hopes of giving her the opening needed to launch her plan. To Bulwark, he shouted, "Where are the rest of our friends? What have you done with them?"

Bulwark snapped around, annoyed. "It's none of your concern, puny. She's lucky the boss likes her. I can't say the same for the rest of you X-Fools."

Rico couldn't immediately access where the massive mutant was from. There was a hint of a British accent, kind of like Jono's, but the husky weight of the low tones overshadowed it. His skin was dusky, and he had a light brown mop of hair to compliment dark eyes. But the most prominent characteristic was the almost comical muscles rippling over

"You're the fool—you're the one working for a monster. It's just a matter of time before he turns on you and drains you too."

The massive mutant paused from his task, long enough to seemingly ponder the motion. He then replied definitively, "He wouldn't do that."

"You're a fool if you think that," Jason pointedly responded. "He's focused on his own agenda. You're just a flunky, nothing more," he continued, hoping that his assumption of their vampire-like captor was accurate enough to make Bulwark have some kind of doubt.

Without hesitation, he responded, "The boss saved me from being killed. If he wanted to get rid of me, he would have just let me die."

For a moment, Jason regretted his words, somehow understanding the connection between the monster and Bulwark. Maybe there was some kind of honor code amongst bad guys, but he sincerely doubted it. Still, the hint of sentiment in Bulwark's voice relayed something more than meaningless employment as a powerful thug.

"At least tell us who the hell you are," Vincent said, adding his own distraction to the plan, much to Rico's pleasure. He locked eyes knowingly, albeit briefly, before resting on the massive mutant still fumbling for restraints.

"The name's Bulwark. Oswald Boeglin. My friends call me Ozzie. But you kids can stick to Bulwark," he replied just as he found wrist and ankle restraints. He turned from the opposite side of the room and leaned down to secure Yvette in the basement prison.

She waited until the last possible second, when Bulwark was most off balance and leaning close, before springing up, hitting him in the chin with her elbow, then bouncing off his broad body with a powerful kick, landing on all fours, extremely close to Rico.

While a dazed Bulwark recovered, she quickly used her claws to cut through Rico's shackles. He climbed to his feet, thankful to be able to move unrestrained. Standing next to Yvette, he watched as Bulwark's eyes flashed red, and he exposed sharp, teeth as he seethed angrily.

"I'll rip you apart!" Bulwark threatened while charging at the duo.

Rico, now desperate, called upon a strength reserve he didn't know he had. Expanding his mind, he took control of the air currents around them, then reached out to those beyond the basement, bringing them all strictly under his command. Without another moment of hesitation, he focused it all into a single concentrated blast of violent wind, which slammed into Bulwark, carried him off his feet, and threw him into the opposite wall.

It all happened so fast, that even he couldn't believe it at first, until he watched Bulwark's head slump and his body crumble to the floor from the dent in the stone wall made from the impact. He was positive that the same attack done to anyone else would have shattered every bone in their body.

Surprised at Rico's quick reaction, Yvette watched curiously as Bulwark's muscles deflated, and his body returned to a frail stature. Surprised at the drastic transformation, she pondered on it for a moment before turning her attention to the other captives.

"You are totally badass!" Rico said, wishing he could pat her on the back. Surprisingly, she seemed to understand the compliment as she returned with a smile. She then sprang into action, freeing the others from their chains, then returned to him and looked at him expectantly.

"Thanks, little girl. Are you an X-Man?" Ty asked, rubbing his raw wrists.

"No," Rico stated. "She's our friend." When she smiled in return, he said to the others, "Okay, we're weak, but at least we're free. The next part of the plan is to get the hell out of here before that guy wakes up again."

The others agreed, quietly falling in line behind Rico as he led the way into the hallway, hoping to locate the exit and get to safety without further incident. But in his heart, he knew that the best laid plans never worked out the way they should. And somewhere, out in the maze-like hallways of their prison, the evil vampire-like monster lurked, waiting for them.

IV.

"Any status update on the energy anomaly?" Richard Arminthorpe entered the room, having just returned from the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. While there, he requested that the headmasters investigate into the disappearance of Craig Taylor, Riptide, a resident of the Arminthorpe Corporation.

Casey Chamberlain's eyes remained fixated on the screens in front of him, the multiple inputs of information being taken in simultaneously. A multitude of calculations, measurements, and readings scrolled vertically on many screens, while several screens showed various angles of the mansion hidden within Aldine Forest.

"No status update. It's quite interesting that the energy keeps building, as if whoever is at the center of it is continually drawing power from some unidentified source. I can't get any readings within the mansion, so I can't tell you anything about Craig or the other prisoners. Shouldn't we dispatch a team to infiltrate the mansion to save him and the others?"

"No. I've already spoken to Xavier's—"

"Those jokers?! Forgive me for speaking so frankly, but they could barely handle themselves against us. Whoever is in that mansion is way beyond their ability. They'll be—"

"Just as you underestimate them, they underestimated us. They were caught off-guard and paid for it. They know somewhat what they're getting into and will handle themselves appropriately. Things will get worse before they get better, but I've entrusted Cassidy and Frost to rescue Craig."

"That's surprising. Are you suddenly okay with the Project Genesis subjects playing X-Men at Xavier's?"

"They're learning and growing more powerful by the day. The time will come for them to return home, do not worry. For now, their power is needed elsewhere."

"Sometimes you're hard to read, Mr. Arminthorpe."

"There's a reason for that. Continue monitoring the situation and provide status updates for any significant event."

"Roger."

Richard departed the room, anxious to see just how the young mutants would impress him this time.

V.

It didn't take long for the X-Men's premiere aircraft, dubbed the Blackbird, to cross from New York to Massachusetts, and it was quite a smooth ride thanks to Scott Summers as the pilot and Kurt Wagner in the co-pilot seat.

The leader of the X-Men, called Cyclops in the field, Scott rattled off coordinates and commands, flipping switches and checking dials at the same time. Despite the advanced technology of the Blackbird, the fundamentals remained the same in comparison with the smaller planes he flew frequently when visiting his home in Alaska. As a licensed pilot, it only made sense that he was in the driver's seat, but it had surprised him many years ago when Kurt had taken an interest in flying as well.

Being a high-flying trapeze artist and a teleporter wasn't quite enough for him, so he took up flying lessons from Scott. In almost no time at all, he became the most capable pilot behind Scott, with Ororo and Jean coming in at a close third. They exchanged piloting duties quite often, but Kurt had much more piloting time than the other two put together.

"Approaching target destination in T-minus two minutes," Kurt reported. His nimble hands flew over the console as he made the necessary preparations for a possible landing.

After meeting in the briefing room with Charles and Emma, Scott wrangled together a team to investigate, ensuring that they had a suitable mix of abilities.

Kurt Wagner, known as Nightcrawler, was a teleporter, which would come in handy for infiltration purposes. Also an able fighter, he proved to be an invaluable team member for any mission.

Jean Grey-Summers, Scott's wife and cornerstone of the team, had immense telekinetic and psychic powers, having been infused with the powers of the cosmic Phoenix long ago. Her abilities gave her the most versatility, aggressive or passive, offensive or defensive—she could do it all.

Peter Rasputin was known as Colossus and for good reason. His ability allowed him to turn his skin into an organic metal with the hardiness of adamantium but the flexibility of normal flesh. It also granted him uncharted physical strength, which made him the mainstay brute of the team.

Lucas Bishop was there not only for his experience with Emplates in his future timeline, but also for his tactical planning skills and firearm handling. He was also able to absorb various types of energy and rechannel it into a foreign, destructive energy. A time-displaced mutant known in the field simply by his last name, Bishop forewarned the team of the possible danger of Emplate's plan, his sister having been murdered by one of his progeny.

The last recruit for the ad hoc team was James Logan Howlett. Wolverine. As the top fighter of the team with an uncharted healing ability and heightened senses, he was the ideal offensive piece of the puzzle. Though he and Scott had their differences, they respected each other on a level few knew and even less understood. That was the reason he never populated a team roster without Wolverine being on it.

As the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters liaison, Emma Frost served as a bridge between the two teams and also doubled as an additional psychic powerhouse.

Scott glanced back over his shoulder. "Emma, any word from Sean?"

"None. I can't seem to reach anyone at the school either. And the psychic interference is keeping me from telepathically communicating. Jean, Phoenix, Marvel Girl, Maddie, Redd, whoever you are today...can't you do something about it? I mean, you are the second most powerful telepath on the planet."

"I see you're never short on pleasantries, Emma."

"Well, we're family, right? Correction...in the most figurative sense, trust me. I'm not mixed up in your usual time-traveling, cloning familial debacles. Though somehow, you've managed to mix Lawson up in your convoluted life-death thing with the Phoenix."

Jean thought that they were past their differences. But not surprisingly, Emma was in full bitch mode toward her, which managed to annoy her considerably.

_"And just why did the Professor ask me to come along? You have plenty of psychic power with Emma here. And she has enough attitude to dwarf Logan's. You know she still holds a grudge,"_ Jean telepathically stated.

_"He thought it would be great bonding time for you two,"_ Scott replied jokingly, glad for the psychic rapport they shared, which allowed them to communicate telepathically without much effort at all.

_"Remind me to give him a piece of my mind when I get back. But I'm also more concerned about the kids. She's right, there's a high level of psychic and energy-based interference, but it's erratic and unstable."_

_"Can you get through?"_

_"Is my hair red?"_

Jean closed her eyes, her face falling into a relaxed expression as her mind expanded beyond the aircraft, reaching through the psychic interference. It was like wading through wet cement as she pushed her way into the secluded mansion, searching for the origin of the disturbance.

She discovered four teens, to include Rico and Yvette, sneaking through the almost maze-like basement. They were safe for the moment, but in a weakened state and trying to hide their fear.

There were also other mutants she hadn't encountered before, dangerous and unique, probably in servitude to Emplate.

She found Monet, near unconsciousness in a room in the upper levels. A powerful psychic, she managed to keep a telepathic beacon shining, hoping that someone would find her. Jean marveled at the girl's power, considering it took an immense amount of energy to maintain such a thing while being knocked out.

_I'll have to commend her and teach the others that trick, _she mentally noted, before communicating with her. _"We're here, Monet."_

_"Phoenix!"_ Monet telepathically exclaimed. _"Emplate—my brother—I was unexpectedly caught off guard. He's dangerous."_

_"I can tell. Recover as quickly as possible, and save your strength. We're going to need it."_

_"I fear that we're too late to stop his plan. He wants to—"_

The connection broke, overtaken by another, much stronger presence, and Jean instinctively pulled back. "Scott, he's on the rooftop!"

Fading into existence, Emplate watched the Blackbird bank to the right, circling the mansion high above him. Already comfortable with his newfound, destructive power, it was nothing for him to again summon a destructive wave of foreign energy, releasing an omni-directional sphere of force that shook the entire environment.

The shockwave rocked the Blackbird, disrupting the entire control system while stunning everyone on board. The blast was like nothing they had ever felt. Though concussive in nature, it also carried with it a psychic attack that overloaded their neural systems as it tore through their bodies. The disruptive force rendered them stunned, and the aftershock knocked them out completely. Everyone except Jean.

Long ago, she trained herself to automatically erect telepathic and telekinetic shields to protect herself from attack. Constructing them in a split second was taxing and fending off the bombarding attack took even more effort, but usually, it enabled her to stave off significant injury. But because of the timing and exertion, she couldn't extend this protection beyond herself.

So, when the wave hit, Jean immediately threw up her defenses, which managed to rebuff only a fraction of the damage. But the others weren't as lucky as they dangled lifelessly from their seats. Without pilots or the auto-pilot function, gravity took over and dragged the Blackbird from its lofty position, thousands of feet in the air, towards the unforgiving earth below.

Though dancing on the edge of unconsciousness, she focused her mind, concentrating on wrapping her thoughts around the aircraft. Once she had it, it took another burst of strength to actually begin to soften its drop, changing from an uncontrollable down-spiral to a guided descent. Trees scraped the bottom and sides as the Blackbird continued on a forceful decline at a sharp angle, until it hit the ground then skidded for several hundred feet before stopping, thanks to the rough ground and Jean's telekinesis.

Worn out and still dazed, the darkness overtook her, and she could only give a brief prayer that by the time they awoke, the rest world would still be there.

VI.

Vincente Cimetta wasn't too pleased that Bulwark was taking so damn long. He stormed down the stairs and into the basement hallway, easily navigating through the similar hallways and sharp turns, antsy simply because Emplate summoned them at least ten minutes ago, and tardiness was unacceptable.

Since absorbing the power from the random kids in the basement, Vincente noticed a distinct change in his boss, but he couldn't quite pinpoint what that change was, let alone if it was dangerous. What he did observe is that Emplate seemed a little less stable than before, and there was something intangibly dangerous about this new version. It wasn't the usual disgruntled, angry raving, but a more purposeful, somewhat conflicted, cold demeanor. Such a drastic change was unnerving to say the least.

Still, Vincente remained loyal—he had no other place to go. He had long since given up trying to make his parents understand that being a mutant didn't change the child they had raised, but nothing would change their rigid perspective, so the relationship grew distant and estranged. Though initially a victim of Emplate, he had found the monster once again, and tagged along with the premise that he was there to help with whatever was needed.

Since then, the ranks of hired help had grown—other mutants who were not accepted by family or loved ones took up residence with Emplate, thus creating a family of sorts. Levity and tomfoolery were a minimum, but the perspective of being accepted bonded them beyond any petty scheme or battle. Until now.

When Vincente rounded the corner, the first thing that caught his eye was the wide-open door, which led to the room where the random kids were being kept. It should have been, at the very least, closed and preferably bolted tightly from the outside, but it hung open recklessly, and after a further glimpse inside, he spotted Bulwark, facedown on the floor. He knew even before seeing the abandoned shackles that somehow, the prisoners had escaped.

As Bulwark stirred to life, Vincente studied the scene for telltale signs of their flight. The shackles were cut cleanly, almost as if a sword or razor had sliced through them, which meant the little red girl, Penance, must have been responsible. Considering the disarray of the room and the lack of lacerations, the wind-user must have somehow gained enough strength to launch a successful offensive against Bulwark, and taking into account that he had heightened durability and resilience, the blow must have been extremely powerful to have knocked him completely unconscious.

"Looks like you messed up, Bulwark," Vincente judgingly commented, watching as Bulwark struggled into a sitting position. Rather than addressing him as Ozzie, he stuck to codenames, which made it easier to chastise him.

Vincente reverted back to the fact that he didn't actually have a codename. Misty was one that he threw out, but after being scoffed by one of those Generation X brats, he quickly rescinded it. He wasn't quite sure how all those X-people figured out codenames and had enough time to change them multiple times to something that usually sounded more threatening or catchy than the last.

"Screw you, Vincen—"

"Shift. I'm going by Shift now. You know, the whole shifting from solid to liquid to gas. Yep, that's me. Anyways, we're supposed to see the boss. He's on the roof. And he's not going to be too pleased at this."

"Shit. Those kids. That girl. She—"

Vincente cut him off. "Don't explain to me. I really don't care about those kids one way or the other. But the boss, he's the one that's going to have your ass in a sling. We're already late, so pull yourself together, and let's go."

Bulwark moved extremely gingerly, trailing behind Vincente as they made their way back through the hallways, then up the stairs to the roof. Once, there, they saw Emplate standing near the edge of the balcony, his eyes locked on something within the surrounding forest.

"What happened?" Emplate asked without turning around.

Vincente answered promptly, "This dummy let them escape."

The quick answer and gravity of the situation hit Bulwark, and his trepidation came out in his voice as rushed and shaky words. "It was that red-skinned girl, she—"

"No excuses," Emplate responded, leaving no room for additional comments. "They are of no consequence, as I have what I need from them. I will deal with your stupidity later. Right now, tend to Rich Cale. Make sure he does not interfere."

Vincente predicted that as their next task. "We'll start at his hotel, then work our way to tracking him from there."

Emplate nodded slightly, granting permission to proceed. "Where are my sisters?" he asked after a pause.

"In the bedroom, just as you directed," Vincente said. "They haven't woken up yet."

"That's fine. Now go. But know this, I will not tolerate any more failure. My plan is coming to fruition nicely. There is one more piece I must deal with before my ascension."

_Ascension?_ Vincente was sure it sounded dangerous, irreversible, and life-altering, but he didn't question Emplate's plan. Instead, he nodded to Bulwark, and they set off to find Rich Cale. His only hope was that whatever the end-state was of the boss's plans, that he would continue to remain at his side, accepted and needed.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional.

Richard Cale, Godiva Cale, Kai Matougi, and Rimo are all based on characters created by Richard Sampson, who has stories posted as well


	37. Emplate's Revenge, Part 5

I.

The day couldn't end fast enough for David Thompson. He hadn't felt quite well all day, and it seemed that the usual polite demeanor of the hotel patrons and staff had been completely forgotten, replaced by spicy rudeness and nerve-racking quibbling. Maybe his nerves were short—he always regarded himself as a big baby when it came to the slightest ailment that threatened his health.

At the first sneeze, cough, or scratchy throat, he would overdose on vitamin C, wrap himself in blankets, and flood his system with water and Gatorade. But he didn't have that luxury today since Sonya Willingham simply didn't show up for work. And his boss, being the passive man he was, didn't want to face a potential confrontation, so he called David.

And David, being the reliable man that he was, couldn't find it in himself to say no. So, despite the oncoming of a cold, he acquiesced to cover her shift and trudged through the day, pretending to be healthy when really he felt like crap inside.

Not only that, but apparently, an international business owner had checked into the hotel, and they also had a reservation for an ambassador. He couldn't quite remember the name of the ambassador, something like Saint Joy maybe, but he instantly recognized the business owner, Rich Cale.

It was only coincidence, but he happened to be from the same city, Easton. They had gone to elementary school together and had actually played on the same soccer team for a while. But Rich was moved to a private school, so their paths crossed infrequently. When Rich's parents were murdered, it became a national sensation, David finding out through the newspaper and television interviews. Since then, he kept tabs on his childhood friend, following his life through official periodicals and tabloids.

After high school, when he decided to move to America, David lost track of Rich. But at shift change, the previous front desk clerk reported all check-ins and outs, and he instantly latched onto Rich Cale's name when he heard it. Excited, he hoped to run into Rich again, not only to catch up, but it also felt good seeing a familiar face.

As he finished tagging rooms for cleanup, a couple approached the counter. He dreaded it at first, swearing that he wouldn't be able to take another impatient, abrupt interaction. However, the smiling couple, an African-American male and Asian female, instantly lifted his spirits, making him forget his fatigue and illness momentarily.

"Good afternoon," he greeted pleasantly. "How can I assist you?"

"Hey, David," Everett returned, having read the silver nametag on the desk clerk's dark blue, button-down shirt. "My girlfriend and I lost our key, can we get another one?"

"No problem, sir. What was your—"

"Ya know," Jubilee interrupted. "I heard Rich Cale was stayin' in this hotel. Like tha super-awesome Rich Cale from England! Oh my gawd, he's pretty cool, an' rich, an' like tha man! He was like in tha latest edition of Entrepreneur, ya know, that mag with all tha like filthy rich hotties? Mega-awesome!"

"I wasn't on duty when he checked in, but the other front desk clerk told me about it since I used to live in that same region. We actually went to the same elementary school."

Inside, Jubilee's heart leaped at the prime opportunity which had presented itself. Their ad hoc plan would play out much more easily than originally anticipated. Readying herself, she took the lead on getting to Rich through the desk clerk.

"Dude! Like no way! See, my aunt used ta be like on his staff way back in tha day, He's pretty chill—he jus' comes off as like stuffy and regal…we've gotta friend like that. You should like totally jus' surprise him with a visit up ta his room! I bet he'd be totally glad ta see someone from his hometown."

David shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Well, I don't know if I could quite do that…wouldn't that seem like a bit stalker-ish?" Honestly, he had thought of doing that very thing, but surely, there was some hotel regulation about visiting guests. Besides, he felt as if he would be intruding on whatever business Rich had. Hearing the idea come from someone else made it sound less far-fetched and inappropriate, but he still hesitated.

"Nah," Jubilee waved off his concern. "We'll like go up there with ya! Like duh! I've been dyin' ta meet him!"

"That's a great idea, babe!" Everett chimed in, giving her a quick squeeze.

The gesture caught her off guard and for a moment, she paused. So many circumstances had transpired that she had long ago pushed her crush on Everett aside, focusing on whatever current crisis demanded her attention. But being here and pretending to be his girlfriend resurrected those feelings, and for a moment, she blushed slightly but kept her composure.

David let his eyes wander thoughtfully. "I guess I could go on a break real quick. And it would seem much less weird if you guys went with me. Okay, let me check and see what room he's in. Hmm…room three zero-eight."

"Dude, this is like so awesome! By tha way, I'm Jubilee and this is like Everett. Good ta meet ya!"!" Jubilee gushed.

Elated, David phoned the back office, letting them know he was going on break. Someone would be at the front to cover, but until then, he placed the "will return in five minutes" placard in plain view. "I really appreciate you guys doing this. We were best friends in elementary school but lost touch."

"This should be a great reunion then," Everett said. He felt a little bad for deceiving David, and even worse that serendipitous circumstance made their plan execute much more smoothly than he anticipated. It was true that they were taking advantage of David's friendship with Rich. However, with everything going on, they needed a little luck on their side, so he figured that an apology later would suffice if something went wrong.

Jubilee launched forward, waving through the lobby. "Hey, like hold that elevator!"

_That's a cue if I ever saw one,_ Angelo grinned. He didn't think they would pull something off so quickly, but his two teammates were accompanied by a desk clerk, so they must have made some progress. "We're up, amigos," he said to Clarice and Graylon.

A crowd of people poured out of the last elevator on the left, and that's the one Angelo took. He kept the button depressed to leave the doors open, as Jubilee, Everett, and David briskly approached. As they stepped into the elevator, Everett gave a nod of gratitude and pressed the third floor button as the door closed.

David eyed the three strangers suspiciously, keeping his eyes locked on the girl with pink-hued skin in the back. Leaning in to Jubilee, he said, "I think those folks are mutants."

She resisted a laugh. "Ya like totally don't say! Do ya think they're dangerous?"

He gave another glance at the blonde, Hispanic, and pink girl. They didn't look particularly threatening, but all three of them had an unspeakable edge to them that made David think twice about their intent. "Maybe."

Everett heard the exchange and glad for the opportunity, he played off of it. "Hey, guys," he turned to the trio behind him. "Do you know Rich Cale?"

"No hablo ingles," the Hispanic shrugged.

The pink-hued female looked puzzled. "Mitch Dale?"

"I think I heard the name once or twice..." the blonde responded thoughtfully.

Jubilee blew out an exasperated breath. "Dudes, you are so lame! Like Rich Cale is this totally awesome—wait, why doncha jus' come with us?! We're goin' up ta see him! See, this is like his BFF an' junk, like they're from tha same school. An' my aunt—well, she always talked him up, like he was this totally awesome guy. I think you'd like him too!"

David froze, surprised at the outgoing nature of the couple. He was more reserved, and had to force himself to talk to the unfamiliar people checking into the hotel. But he would have never, never spoken to complete strangers in an elevator. Let alone mutants.

It wasn't that he had something against them. In fact, he thought it would be quite cool to have a mutant for a friend. But he saw the news and understood that some of them had powers so dangerous that they were a threat to anyone around them. Not to mention the bad mutants who used their powers to terrorize everyone else. And there was no telling what side of the tracks these mutants in the elevator came from.

David whispered, "I don't know if all of us should—"

"Like it's totally cool! We don't mind!" Jubilee smiled, her lively demeanor completely drowning out his growing trepidation.

She, like Everett, felt a hint of guilt for using him, but if things were as bad as they seemed, they didn't have time to do things the "right" way. Sure, they could have simply waltzed into the place, blown up some doors, and found what they were looking for, but this was much more clandestine. And fun!

Normally, David's sense of logic and responsibility governed his every move, and a situation like this wouldn't have ever occurred. However, with the way the day had gone, his near-illness, he prospect of seeing an old friend, and the influence of a seemingly nice couple, he was making decisions that were quite out of character. But if all went well, he figured it would be well worth it.

So, when the time came to object to the additional members of the Cale welcoming party, he didn't. He hesitantly acquiesced to the suggestion, though he still felt apprehensive about keeping company with the strange mutants and hoped Rich Cale wasn't the type to have an issue with meeting them.

"This is going to be so cool!" Jubilee gushed as the elevator doors slid open. She led the way into the third floor hallway, spied the placard that directed her to the right for room 308, then charged forward, the rest of the group trailing behind. "Guys, ya can't be like all loud and junk, like fer reals. We're supposed ta be like surprisin' him."

The group giggled a little, but the chatter silenced, while David pulled out the master key card. Making his way to the door, he ran the card through the reader and a gentle click sounded, then a latch pulled back. He pulled the handle and pushed the door open, peering into the room while keeping everyone from stampeding into the place. "Mr. Cale?" he called.

"Richie! Come out, come out!" Jubilee said over his shoulder, but a silencing wave from David made her clamp her hand over her mouth. She giggled underneath, playing up the role of a ditzy, awe-struck tourist, but underneath, she rejoiced at their success.

The front desk clerk surveyed the suite, including the bathroom, then returned to the group. "I should have simply called him—it doesn't look like he's here."

"Bummer!" Jubilee responded, inciting a few other words of disappointment from the others.

David too felt somewhat deflated. "Maybe we should go—"

Jubilee winked at Everett before replying. "Dude! Like no way! Here's tha sitch—since he's not here, it's like totally perfect. We can jus' hide in tha room and surprise 'em when he like comes back. My aunt told me that he likes that sort of thing, ya know? You can be tha lookout, since yer totally low-key. Whadya think?"

"But what if he doesn't come back for a long time?" he asked, not quite convinced that this was a good idea at all.

"Silly guy! We'll just wait like twenty minutes fer 'em. If he's not back by then, we'll jus' like figure somethin' else out."

Succumbing to her rationale and practical logic, he responded, "Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt. And I really want to meet him. And if he likes surprises—"

"Then lookout already! We'll hide!"

David gave the five teens, three of them mutants for sure, a last, curious glance before rushing out of the room, gently closing the door behind him.

"I can't believe that actually worked," Graylon said, shaking his head.

"Dude," Jubilee quickly responded, "if you're gonna roll with us, ya can't be like doubtin' our skills."

Angelo gave a grunt of dissention. "A gotta take his side on this one. Seriously though, did Ev synch with Monet or Mike before we rolled out here and pulled some of that psychic shit on him?"

Everett nodded negatively. "Not at all. Jubes was pretty convincing. We have to chalk it up to pure, dumb luck. It happens sometimes, and it's best when it gives us an advantage."

Clarice stated, "Well, regardless of the reason, we're here. What exactly are we supposed to find?"

"Not too sure. Anything that ties Rich Cale to Emplate or Ambassador St. Croix," Everett responded, already scanning the lavish hotel room.

He found himself equally as impressed as he was with the exterior. The room hosted a mix of traditional and contemporary furniture, with a similar combination of décor. It was surprisingly inviting and comfortable, reminding Everett of his own home.

To the others, he said, "Just look around, but don't disturb anything. We're not here to ransack the room."

"Understood," Clarice said. She began her search in the living room area, while Everett and Jubilee checked one side of the bedroom. Angelo explored the bathroom, and Graylon investigated the opposite side of the bedroom.

"Dude. Are we really gonna find anythin' like useful in this place?" Jubilee said aloud, more as a rhetorical question than anything else.

"Maybe something like this?" Graylon waved a worn, leather journal before handing it to Everett.

The others gathered around as he flipped through the pages, a concerned look taking over his features.

Graylon asked, "So, what does it say?"

Everett cleared his throat then read the passages aloud.

"Emplate, an evil being which is a cross between the undead and a dark priest. This creature sustains itself through feeding off the energy of any living thing, preferably humans or mutants, though continuous feeding from the same source will cause it to adapt that source's characteristics and features."

"Through this interaction, it can also create beings with attributes much like itself, converting other humans into Emplate-like creatures. These monsters are under its strict control, but can be reverted back to their original existence through magic or lost proximity from Emplate."

"Existing in an ethereal form in an unknown alternate dimension, the Emplate can exist physically in this realm by bonding with a host. Through this merger, it gains the abilities of its host, though the merger creates a psychologically unstable existence as the psyches combine."

Clarice shook her head. "Wow. This Emplate thing is dangerous."

"But did ya see tha part about tha psyches? Could that like mean Monet's brother is really possessed by this Emplate thing?" Jubilee asked.

"That's what it seems like. So maybe there's a way to separate them," Clarice logically suggested.

Graylon surmised, "And maybe that's why Rich Cale was here. If he has books like this and knows the origin of Emplate, chances are he knows how to combat it. And separate it from its host."

Everett took it a step farther. "Well, maybe Kiana was right about the kidnappings. If Emplate is possessing Marius, maybe he's trying to gain enough power to actually do it."

"And so, he's kidnapping random mutants?" Graylon asked.

"Not random. Either Marius or Emplate can absorb mutant energy and reuse it. But if one of them can wield magic, then maybe the absorption is something more—like maybe he can combine the energies into a more dangerous type of power. That being said, she thought that the mutants that were being kidnapped were those who had elemental-type powers."

"Dios. I thought we had it rough dealing with Emplate alone. Now, you're tellin' me that we've got some magic bullshit to deal with too? What's next? We get sucked into that Limbo place?" Angelo half-heartedly joked. But when he thought back to some of their unpredictable adventures, he realized such an idea wasn't that far-fetched.

Everett flipped through the weathered pages, stopping on a page with several entries. Something inexplicable caught his attention, and as he read, the content gripped him tightly. Aloud, he read, "We have the honor of being a line of Arcanists, those endowed with a natural connection to various forms of magic, focusing on mastering the arts to continue to protect this realm and world from the continual threat of invasion and infiltration."

"With my son being the first mutant in our family, his powers as an Arcanist are undeterminable at this time. My assessment is that he has the potential to be the most powerful in our entire family line, but only time will tell. Richard Cale, Sr."

Jubilee blew only a small bubble, breaking the smothering silence left by Everett's pondering over the implications of the journal entries. She then said, "Like ol' Frosty likes ta say, this totally changes everythin'."

Everett nodded, fully understanding the gravity of the situation. With Cartier being taken, and Emplate out there somewhere plotting, they didn't have much time to mull over ambiguous clues. "You're right. We've got to get back to the school, and tell the others that—"

"Oh my god!" David ducked into the room, slammed the door behind him, and leaned back against it, his chest heaving and face paled. His mind whirled, and it took him a moment to regain some sort of sensible composure.

Graylon cocked a disapproving eyebrow, dismissing the clerk's panic for over-exaggerated admiration. "You have got to be kidding me. You can't possibly be that excited over this Cale character."

"Is he like comin'?" Jubilee asked, ignoring Graylon's comment.

"No," David gasped, suddenly searching for the right words. "There's a group of _monsters_ out there." He held his breath, waiting for someone to laugh at the absurdity of such a claim, but the expressions of interest and concern eased his trepidation about the alarmed announcement.

Clarice repeated, "Monsters?" At first, she thought he was joking, but when his expression didn't change, she began to take his words seriously. She shot a glance to the others, who appeared puzzled but pondering over the potential danger. She asked, "What did they look like?"

"I—I don't—there was a mummy. And some guy with fog all around him. And some big, broad, steroid freak of nature," the descriptions rushed from David, a little louder than an urgent, hushed whisper. On the other side of the door, he could hear their footsteps—they were getting closer.

"Emplate's goons," Jubilee definitely stated. "We've got like serious trouble. They're prob'ly here fer Richie Rich."

Angelo replied, "Talk about the wrong place at the wrong time. Can we really afford a fight right now?"

"No," Everett answered. "But I don't think they'll listen to reason."

At the door, there was a light knock, followed by a fake, vaguely foreign accent, "Room service! I know you are in there!"

"Umm...I'm naked. Leave it at the door! Thanks!" Graylon said, shrugging toward the others when they shot him an annoyed glare. David backed away from the door quickly, taking his place next to the others as all eyes were locked on it.

The door exploded inward from a forceful blow, courtesy of Bulwark, who stepped aggressively into the room, followed closely behind by Wrap and Vincente.

"Where's Cale?" the massive mutant pointedly asked.

Jubilee frowned. "Like why like ask us, creepola? Don't you guys totally have dibs on stalking our peeps?"

Vincente snapped, "Don't bluff. You either tell us where he is, or we beat it out of you."

Graylon cracked a challenging smile as his adamantium hands morphed into jagged, claws. "You're threatening the wrong kids."

"I agree with the annoying blonde," Clarice said, readying herself in an offensive fighting stance.

From the other side of the room, Jubilee warned, "David, dude, stand back. This may like get a little intense fer ya!"

"You stupid monsters," David said before he hurled a vase at them, finding a target on Bulwark's forehead. He was surprised that he had actually hit one of them, but his joy was short-lived, replaced by anger and determination. "I don't know what you want with Mr. Cale, but I'll fight alongside these guys to make sure you don't get your hands on him."

"Wrong move, puny," Bulwark said, charging the group, barreling through Vincente whose body had already shifted into a gaseous state.

"Speaking of wrong moves," Clarice said before teleporting the ground from underneath him, letting him fall to the room below. "Know who you're dealing with before charging headfirst...it might save you a few broken bones next time."

"You teleported him?" David asked, astounded.

"Trust me, I could have done far worse," she replied, turning her attention toward her teammates, who were separately struggling against Vincente and Wrap. "Grab the books, I'll help them."

David nodded, his heart thumping against his chest. Never in a million years did he expect to be in the middle of a fight between mutants over his childhood friend. And he never thought that he would have been bold enough to aggressively confront a mutant at least ten times his size. Yet, here he was, on the same side as the good guys, rushing across the room to grab the mysterious books that were strewn across the floor.

He grabbed the leather-bound journals, hoping that he didn't get blasted in the back or turned into a pile of mush because of some wayward energy beam.

"Hand over those books, human!"

David cradled the books close to his chest, and whipped around to face the amorphous cloud approaching him. Purple and thick, the heavy fog rolled over itself, threatening to engulf him in its unknown depths. He took a retreating step, pulling the books closer, the feeling of dread paralyzing him.

From behind the cloud, Graylon said, "We weren't done, Misty."

"Oh?" Vincente said, redirecting his advance back toward Graylon. "You can't lay a finger on me. And the name's Shift. Now, let's see what your lungs look like..."

David should have been relieved, but his concern went out for the blonde, who moments ago was swept off his feet and tossed around by the cloud-like adversary. But somehow, even after the assault, he was back on his feet, challenging the bad guy, and subsequently rescuing him from the same fate.

_ These books must be important! There must be something in them that can help!_

He dropped to one knee, setting the other books on the ground, while opening the thickest one. The musty, aged pages crinkled with every quick flip, and the odor made his nose crinkle as he tried to decipher the rather strange print. Instead of letters and words, the writing some something that should have been discovered in an ancient tomb or a hidden chest within a booby trapped structure.

He focused as Bulwark burst through another part of the floor, angry and searching for a victim...maybe him. He glanced toward Jubilee and Everett, who were indisposed with the mummy. The villainous creature had them both restrained with its bandages as they struggled to free themselves unsuccessfully. Just beyond them, the blonde and pink girl challenged the bad guy alternating between a gaseous and physical state, which made their fight almost impossible. The other guy, who only spoke Spanish, managed to distract Bulwark only for a moment before being batted to the side.

And that's when David was spotted.

_ Dammit!_

There was no way he would survive a blow from the huge meathead now plowing towards him. Frantic, he continued to flip the pages, hoping that something would catch his eye, but the symbols didn't become any more decipherable as the behemoth barreled his way. Almost at the end of the journal, David paused as he happened upon a slip of paper between the worn pages.

"In case of an emergency, use this. Rimo," he read aloud, bewilderment giving way to desperation. With no time to figure out any of the screaming questions in the back of his mind, he unfolded the paper, and read, "Oh Vishani, in this dire moment of peril, lend this mortal but a mere granule of your immense and awesome power to protect humanity. Let our enemies be transparent to you, great ones, and their plight deterred with this summoning. Mystic revelation!"

At the utterance of the final word, it seemed that the entire room slowed to a near stop, every movement reduced to a languid gesture. The surrounding, ambient light dimmed, summoning malevolent shadows and seemingly endless pits of darkness. A wind whipped from everywhere at once, tossing first only light objects, then quickly and easily moved much larger objects, to the point that they were in the middle of a violent tornado.

Without any further warning, the wind shifted, sucked into sudden black wormholes that erupted from nowhere. But instead of dragging everything into their vast, endless existence, the only ones that were pulled against their will were the mutant enemies after Rich Cale. The mummy, mist guy, and the meathead were sucked into the portals, and just as suddenly as they appeared, they disappeared, and everything abruptly returned to normal.

"What the hell did you do?" Graylon asked.

"I—I don't know. It was something I read from here. I didn't know what else to do," he explained, stuck between feelings of relief, panic, and guilt. Relief—the bad guys were gone. Panic—what the hell had happened? Guilt—had he killed the bad guys? "Everything happened so fast. It was intense!"

Angelo said, "Bienvenidos a nuesto mundo."

Everett asked, "Are you okay?"

"Y—yeah," David stammered a bit, his heart still pounding against his ribcage. Though his head still spun, he managed to keep from losing his balance. "I—I wasn't get hurt back there. But are you guys really friends of Rich's? And why were those monsters after him? Just what is going on here?"

Guilty, Jubilee stepped forward, locking eyes with David. "Look, I'll level wit' ya. We go ta tha Xavier School fer Gifted Youngsters, and we're in tha middle of this like totally humungous sitch that Rich Cale is somehow a part of. We have ta find him so we can save our friends. I can't like tell ya more than that 'cause we're not too sure ourselves. We didn't mean to totally mislead ya or anythin', but there's a lot on tha line here. I understand if ya don't trust us, but like know that we're tryin' ta do tha right thing."

Her words were sincere, and really hit David, rendering him speechless for a moment. This was his first interaction with known mutants, and it didn't go anything like he ever imagined. He was brave. He was scared. He was angry. And he was thankful. Confused, tired, and sick, he knew that everything was hitting him at once. But her words broke through all of that, and he could honestly understand their plight.

"That makes sense. I wish you hadn't lied, but honestly, I probably wouldn't have let you up for any other reason. Here," he said as he handed over the books. "I think you guys are pretty cool, and I hope that you find him. There's probably more monsters like that out there, so be careful. And don't forget about me over here—I still would like to meet Mr. Cale."

"Hey, no prob. As soon as we like kick some bad guy ass, we'll throw a party fer reals. And like trust you'll be on tha invite list!"

David smiled genuinely. "You know, it felt good to kind of fight alongside you guys. There are plenty of people that are scared of mutants—I was one of them. There are also people that hate you guys. But I wish that they could just fight alongside you once...I think they would see that there are some good ones out there."

Graylon blew out an impatient sigh. "Aren't we supposed to find Cale? Right now, we're wasting time with the afterschool special you guys are starring in."

"You sure know how to ruin something nice," Clarice icily responded.

Everett asked, "Blink, can you get us back to the car?"

"No problem."

"Like those creepozoids shouldn't be back. Sorry about tha rooms...you can just send tha bill to the school. Frostie will pick up the tab! Laters!"

David waved as the five teens disappeared into an endless circular void, laced with glowing pink energy. Just as fast as they had come into his life, they were gone.

David let out a sigh of relief. He was glad things were calm, but he couldn't help but to be concerned for Rich Cale and the mutants he just met. A part of him wished that he could have gone with them to help, but the other part of him understood the inherent danger of simply being around mutants, let alone getting mixed up in some kind of epic adventure.

So, he resigned himself to figure out how to explain the hole in the floor and the broken, displaced furniture. He'd definitely make sure to throw Emma Frost's name in the conversation for taking care of the repairs...maybe that would somehow keep him from being fired. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself, apprehensive but at the same time, feeling as if he could conquer the world.

And he hoped the new mutants he met felt the same. Something told him they would need all of the confidence and energy they could muster.

II.

"Phoenix!" Monet St. Croix snapped into a sitting position, abandoning any symptoms of her unconsciousness instantly. In the next few seconds, she was to her feet and barricading her mind from any further attack with nearly impenetrable psychic shields, while assessing the current situation.

The energy swirling around the mansion was stifling and oppressive, stronger and more foreign than anything she had felt before, and she knew that it was coming from Emplate. Her brother. Marius. She didn't know how he had gotten so strong, but she knew his plan. But there was something that unnerved her, something that made her question everything she thought they knew about Emplate.

For so long, Monet had convinced herself that her brother was no more, his psyche twisted and broken into the maniacal creature known to them as Emplate. Though he constantly claimed to be her brother, and she would entertain it, deep down, she refused to believe that her brother even really existed. But after a happenstance glimpse into his mind before his psychic attack, she knew that her brother was indeed somewhere in the darkness invading his mind.

But his psyche was shattered, those pieces easily subdued by Emplate, who seemed to be something else...another entity entirely dwelling within his body. Though a losing battle, Marius continued to struggle for dominance, his thoughts, ambitions, and willpower merging with Emplate's, becoming something tainted and twisted. His actions belonged to neither Marius or Emplate, but to a consciousness that existed as an amalgam between the two, which made him that much more dangerous and unpredictable.

Monet hoped that the X-Men were somewhere nearby. She felt Jean's presence near the mansion, but pinpointing their exact location was difficult, making it unclear whether the X-Men were actually inside or if they were detained on the outskirts of the grounds. Regardless, they were here, which meant there were reinforcements.

Her psychic shields stronger than before, and her vitality soaring, Monet stole into the hallway while keeping her enhanced senses alert for anything out of place. As she took quieted steps down the hallway, an ajar door near the end caught her eye. A small sliver of light sliced through the darkness, begging her to investigate. Not one to shy away from a curious situation, she readied herself as she neared the door.

She pushed it open, cautiously surveying the room until her eyes rested upon the bed. Taking a step inside, Monet blinked away the assumed hallucination, but paused as the scene didn't change as expected. She approached the bed and touched the delicate shoulder of the young girl lying next a mirror image of herself, both girls younger versions of Monet herself.

"Nicole?" she whispered.

The girl stirred as her eyes fluttered open. "Monet," Nicole groggily identified. "Oh, Monet!" she jolted of her disorientation and threw her arms around her older sister. On the other side of the bed, Claudette moved, stretched, and then sat up totally aware.

"How did you two get here? What happened?"

"It was horrible! Emplate got into the school and chased us! The last thing I remember is a wave of energy coming at us! Where is everyone else? Where are we?"

Visualizing Emplate's intrusion, Monet fumed, vowing that the monster would pay for the damage he caused ten-fold. As she pulled away from her sister, she said, "I have no awareness of our teammates' whereabouts. I was unexpectedly overtaken in a confrontation with Emplate and recovered only moments ago. Regardless, we must depart this area—are the both of you fit to walk?"

The twins nodded almost simultaneously as they swung their legs over the side of the bed. In a smooth movement, both girls hopped down, and took in their surroundings. A stark contrast to their bedroom at the school, this one was dark and dreary, colorless. The stone walls were a dry gray, and the floors and ceilings were a slightly shade than that. The dresser, nightstands, and armoire were sturdy, but antique, so it was a bit worn and weathered. The bed wasn't comfortably soft, and it was dressed in ashen sheets and a comforter with matching, drawn curtains.

Uneasy, Nicole took Claudette's hand, then she looked to Monet. "I think we're okay. But I really don't like this place. And Claudette doesn't either."

"Stay behind me, we shall immediately depart this place. I refuse to let either of you remain vulnerable to the dangers of our adversaries."

"But we can fight too!"

Monet started toward the door. "Of this, I am fully aware. However, it is my responsibility to protect you. And I intend to do just that." She peeked out of the door to ensure there were no sentries, before turning back to her sisters.

"What about Emplate? Or Marius?" Nicole asked.

Monet paused. "That is something I cannot immediately discern. But we must release ourselves from his grasp as soon as possible. I feel that something genuinely disastrous lies ahead if we remain here."

"But Monet," she pleaded, "Marius is—"

"I know," Monet replied much more tersely than she meant. She took a deep, relaxing breath. "I apologize. I fear that this has grown much larger than just him. His power is unstable, and he's willing to use it to meet his goals. We cannot help him...not right now. I have to guarantee your safety first."

Nicole nodded. "Are we going to be able to save him?"

Though she possessed knowledge beyond her years, it was a question that Monet wasn't ready to answer. Nor could she. Instead, she led her twin sisters into the dark corridor, hoping that their escape was less eventful than their entry.

III.

"Dammit. I still cannae get a hold o' Emma," Sean Cassidy cursed as he disconnected the call for the tenth time. He slipped the sleek device back into his Celtics jacket before beginning to pace the length of Chief Dan Authier's office. He had so many things running through his mind, that he couldn't think about all of it and remain still. His aquamarine eyes flashed with focus as his mind replayed through the events up to this point.

Only moments ago, one of his students, Michael Lawson, received a rather violent telepathic cry for help from Monet St. Croix. Apparently, she had fallen into the clutches of Emplate, a longstanding adversary of the students and also her brother. Not only that, but he had received an alert from Rico Vidal's phone, indicating that an unforeseen catastrophe had struck him and another student, Vincent Sellenger. Both of them were targets of Emplate's scheme, previously predicted by their initial hypothesis of Emplate's plan. On top of all of that, Ambassador St. Croix was kidnapped from the airport without a trace.

Currently, Sean had four of the other students with him—Ethan Callaghan, Paige Guthrie, Michael Lawson, and Kiana Asahara—at the police station, hoping to at least share information that would help them with the case of the missing teenagers. They suspected that Emplate was behind the kidnappings, and with the series of events that had already occurred, there was no denying that was indeed the case.

"What's your next move?" Dan asked, his arms crossed in pensive worry. "My men are still scouring the airport for any evidence of the Ambassador's disappearance. I can dispatch more to Aldine Forest if needed."

Sean shook his head. "Ah dinnae want anyone else gettin' hurt. No offense, but yuir men cannae stand up t' th' likes o' Emplate and his henchmen."

"That's fair. But if it's related to the case we're working on and the Ambassador's kidnapping, we have to be involved."

"Aye. Ah dinnae disagree with ye. But—" his response was cut off by the unexpected vibrating of his phone. When he answered it, an urgent but familiar voice surprised him.

"Sean, can you hear me?"

"Jean! It's fuzzy, but Ah can hear ye!"

"The Blackbird is down. We're outside of the mansion Emplate has been hiding in. Emma is here too."

"Thank th' heavens yuir okay."

"We've had better days, trust me, but none the worse for wear. Monet seems to be unharmed—I was able to reach her telepathically before we went down. But Emplate is extremely dangerous, but his power is immense and severely unstable. It's nothing I've ever seen before."

"We think he's using the kidnapped mutants as a source for bolstering his magical abilities. Ah'm not exactly sure what he plans t' do with it though."

"As soon as we've recovered, we're heading in."

"We can—"

"Stay there," she responded firmly. "We aren't sure how far-reaching this is going to be. They may need your help there. Make sure the students at the school stay there, where it's safe. Don't worry, we'll take care of Monet, and if the kidnapped teens are here too, we'll find them."

Sean had known Jean a long time, and understood that she wouldn't have been directive unless the situation was dire, which only made him that much more concerned.

"Aye. We'll be on standby. Ah know ye are all capable, but be careful, lass. Everythin' about this seems abnormal an' dangerous."

"I can tell you're getting old, Sean. You worry too much," Jean gave him a friendly wink, and even through the static, he caught a glint of undeniable power in her emerald eyes.

"Ha! Someone has t' worry about ye. Jus' keep me posted."

"Will do. Phoenix out."

Sean ended the call, and caught his own anxious expression. The kids were keenly perceptive, and he didn't want to worry them. But as he attempted a reassuring smile, their stares told him that they already knew something was terribly wrong.

"What did she say?" Paige asked, voicing the question everyone else was thinking of asking.

As he slipped the phone back in his pocket, he replied, "We're on standby here, in case anything else happens. Ah'm gonna keep tryin' th' school jus' t' make sure th' lads there are okay."

Ethan sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. "I understand why we're supposed to stay here, but I feel useless. We're just waiting for something to happen?"

"We're here t' support th' town in case somethin' goes wrong," he replied, understanding the young man's point. He didn't want to risk getting the students into a dangerous situation. However, Sean was sure that they were fully capable of defending themselves and possibly providing some kind of offensive front if needed.

Not wanting to delve into it any farther, he turned to the chief of police and asked, "Do ye mind our help, Dan?"

He smiled in response. "Not at all. If things are that bad, then I'm glad you're here. The annual festival is going on today and tonight, and most of the town is going to be out and about. My men are going to be around, but if something else happens with Emplate, everyone may be at risk. In the meantime, I get what you're saying, so we'll hold fast at your discretion. Consider this a partnership."

"Tis fair," Sean replied. He was thankful that Dan was proving easy to work with in these matters. If they had opposition from the local police, it would make everything that much harder.

Kiana asked, "So, we're kind of working on the case as policemen together?"

Dan nodded. "I'd consider you a specialized unit within the department. That's actually been the problem with the rest of the force—they believe you guys act outside of the law. Your autonomy is taken as a negative thing. I don't see it that way though. But there are times when we need your help, and there are times when we have information that will help you. I've worked with a special unit within the FBI that does the same thing—Agent Noah Bishop has a team of mind specialists—mutants—who tackle cases dealing with specific cases involving other psychics."

"I didn't know that, Chief," Michael said. It seemed that every time he spoke to Dan, a new aspect of his life was revealed, making him that much more interesting and respectable.

"Not many people do," replied Dan. "Some are aware that I worked with the FBI before coming here to Snow Valley. That's why I want there to be more unity between your school and the authorities—it would benefit both sides and help with the mutant-human relations in general."

"Aye," agreed Sean. "As a former Interpol agent, collaboration is never a bad thing. Ah'll talk t' Charles an' Emma, but Ah think they'll agree."

Dan smiled, glad for the progress. "Good. I'll informally socialize it among the force. When all of this is over, maybe we can make a formal announcement."

Pleased at the progress, Sean turned his attention to Michael. It was only a few minutes ago that his student received a powerful telepathic communication from Monet, which managed to physically affect him with a headache and nosebleed. Sean still didn't understand the intricacies of telepathic abilities, so he wasn't sure about the severity or permanency of the injuries. He approached Michael, kneeling next to him while pulling out his cell phone again.

"Ah've got a medical application that can scan ye fer any medical issues. I jus' need ye t' hold still fer jus' a moment," he explained as he tapped the screen, then positioned it to capture Michael's head within the screen. "How are ye feelin'?"

"The headache has subsided. Monet just caught me off guard—I realized she was powerful, but her telepathy carries a lot of heat with it."

Sean waited for a moment, then received a return message from Cerebro, which indicated an excellent medical status. "And...?"

Michael sighed, realizing he hadn't been doing a good job of distracting himself from the situation yesterday. His confusion must have been plainly evident for Sean to be asking about it now. He didn't really want to go into it too much, not while everything else was happened, but since he was asked, Michael felt a little more comfortable talking about it.

"The whole Phoenix thing still has me thrown off. I'm trying to not think about it, since we've had one thing to happen after another. It just complicates things. At least I don't have that voice inside of my head anymore. But I'm also connected to a power that I don't fully understand. Jean and I saw it dissipate, but I don't know...I still feel like something is there, hiding. Waiting. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. But still..."

Sean patted his student's shoulder for reassurance. "Ye can control yuir power—that's th' beginnin' t' understandin' it. Th' rest will come in time. Ah think Jean will agree that even after all this time, she cannae grasp th' full scope o' th' Phoenix. Trust me on this—th' lass has had t' live through many difficult situations, but as ye can see, she has conquered her fears an' taken responsibility fer th' powers she has. Tis not easy by any means. But ye have us t' lean on...don't deal wit' this by yuirself."

Ethan chimed in, "Agreed. Mike, I didn't mean to press you so hard, but I was worried. I think everyone was. Still are. I don't know anything about the Phoenix, but you can talk to us, and let us know what's going on no matter how crazy it sounds."

Michael nodded in understanding. "Vanessa said the same thing. And you're right. I was trying to deal with it on my own. Just like finding Dr. Cain. But I'll rely on you guys more...I feel comfortable with it now."

"That's good, Mike," Dan said. "I can tell that in the short time you've been enrolled at Xavier's, you've grown."

Michael replied, "Well, growing isn't always easy."

"No one ever said it was, but that's what we're here to do—learn and grow," Paige said.

"Well, now that we've officially turned this into an after-school special..." Ethan joked, breaking the serious overtones of the conversation.

"Aye. I dinnae think it will be long before we hear back from the X-Men. Ah'm also waitin' for Everett's report. Hopefully, they were able t' find Rich Cale. He'd probably have some o' th' answers we're lookin' fer in terms of Emplate."

"How do you think this will turn out?" Kiana asked.

"Ah can only hope fer th' best," Sean said, though his gut told him that things would get worse. Much worse. He kept his trepidation hidden and punctuated his statement with a reassuring smile. But his students were smart, though they believed his sincere words, he could see it in their eyes—they knew that things were about to go very wrong.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional

The reference to Agent Noah Bishop (no relation to Lucas Bishop of the X-Men) and the team of mind specialists refers to the series written by Kay Hooper. Consider it a mini-crossover!

Richard Cale and Grimore are characters created by Richard B. Sampson Jr., who has work posted as well. They are used with permission


	38. Emplate's Revenge, Part 6

I.

The cool dusk breeze caressed Rich Cale as he climbed out of the taxi, cradling Rimo, an animal resembling a diminutive wolf. He paid the taxi driver with crisp American bills, a twenty and a five, then faced the gates of the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. The iron barriers were slightly ajar, and the grounds were ominously quiet.

"So, this is the esteemed school Cartier's daughters attend..." Rich neutrally mumbled. He wasn't particularly impressed with the outside, but it did manage to get a positive nod regarding the architecture and sprawling size. The multiple-story, winged building distinctly stood among the thick forest, its deep red brick and sloping roofs a welcomed contrast against the deep greens of the surrounding foliage. But in his mind, he expected a training ground for teenaged mutants to be some concrete fortress—squared edges, windowless, boring—surrounded by high walls and lookout posts.

Rimo leaped from his arms to the ground, observing the area as well. His pointed ears perked, and his dark eyes narrowed. _"I don't think we have too much time to debate the expectations of Xavier's properties. Emplate has already made his move—"_

"What?! How do you—" a sharp horn blared from behind him, startling him. He turned and shielded his eyes from the headlights, annoyed.

"Lo, dear stranger," Gaia Sophronia leaned out of the window to greet the gentleman blocking the gate. Chatting about random topics only moments ago, she saw studied their uninvited visitor, accompanied by a foreign creature she couldn't quite identify.

His dark brown eyes squinted against the bright headlights, and his sharp jawline tensed as he moved to one side. Gaia presumed that because of his tanned complexion, slender build, and jet black hair, he could possibly be some sort of subject of art, but there was something about him that didn't quite meet the mark.

The little creature that stood close by was cute, reminding her of some exotic pet on a cartoon Lily told her about—a tale about unique animals, trapped within pocket-sized spheres, battling each other at the behest of their owners. The name of the show escaped her, but she was convinced that the animal that cocked its head in curiosity as its sharp ears perked surely had to be one of the creatures Lily spoke of.

Addressing him further, she asked, "Are you one of those confused, lost children looking for a way out of the forest? Maybe you have run into the child with the red cloak, that golden-haired destroyer, or maybe those siblings who—"

"I'm not lost," Rich snapped, annoyed. Out of all the stories of the X-Men, he didn't recall there being a ditzy, pink-haired girl. "And I'm absolutely positive that you are talking about storybook characters...people that are not real. What business do _you_ have here?"

Gaia cocked a disapproving eyebrow, pushing her bangs from her brow. "I do not care for your tone, stranger. This is a dwelling for learning the arts—rude interlopers are not welcome here."

From the passenger seat, Lily leaned toward her teammate, keeping her voice at a hushed whisper, barely louder than the running engine. "Gaia, aren't you being kind of mean?"

"Child," she huffed with an impatient tone, "you must not fall prey to the likes of wandering outlanders. Heed my warning and learn from my actions, only then will you ensure your continued safety in this dangerous world."

She giggled in response, thankful for the well-intended concern. However, she hoped that Gaia would continue to learn some of the more delicate interactions needed to make friends. She attempted a wave, but when the stranger didn't respond in kind, she offered, "Let me try to talk to him." Before an objection occurred, she hopped out of the car, and smiled pleasantly as she approached, stopping short of his pet.

Her eyes rested only momentarily on the animal, but in that brief instant, she caught a sense of abnormality surrounding it. It wasn't really due to its appearance—that of a miniature wolf—but there was an aura of a strange power ebbing from it. It should have made her uncomfortable, but she felt no hostility or ill-intent. Making a mental note, she turned her attention to the gentleman.

"Sorry about that. She's still adjusting to the school. I'm Lily Madison. And we do go to school here, but I don't think we were expecting any new students. Is there something we can help you with?"

Rich's frown didn't change, but he shifted his weight to appear less defensive. "At least you have some sense about you. I'm Rich Cale, and I was here to accompany Ambassador St. Croix to see his daughters. But earlier, he was taken by a hostile force. I came here to enlist the aid of whomever is capable to find him and to relay the circumstances to his daughters."

"Monet, Nicole, and Claudette?" she asked, piecing the situation together.

Until now, she didn't realize that the St. Croix's father was an Ambassador. Lily then thought back to several conversations, and in retrospect, it was rare that any of them even really discussed any familial ties or issues. But then again, she wouldn't really be able to participate, since she didn't know her own biological parents. When not enrolled at the Arminthorpe Corporation, she had lived in foster homes for as long as she could remember and didn't feel entirely comfortable talking about it, especially since it seemed everyone else had a strong family support system.

She continued, "We've been away for most of the day, so we didn't know anything had happened. We got a call from one of our friends here telling us to get back to the school, but she didn't really explain why." Lily paused, a sudden sense of foreboding and distress overtaking her.

Rich watched the young girl pale. "Are you okay?"

"I—I think so. I'm sorry. I just—there's something wrong here..."

His blood ran cold. He wasn't sure what the girl's mutant ability was, but she clearly validated what Rimo had revealed only moments ago—that something had happened here. And whatever it was, they were much too late to stop it.

Alarmed, he commanded, "Tell your friend to leave the car here. We'll approach by foot."

As Lily passed the message to Gaia, Rich looked back at the school, as the apprehension tied his stomach into a hard knot. With a flick of his wrist, a spiral of flame shot from his palm, materializing into a straight sword. Heatless flame continued to dance along the sliver blade, casting light and shadows in the immediate area.

"You're a mutant?" Lily questioned, having observed the summoning. Gaia stood behind her, trying to hide her own curiosity.

"Yes. But this isn't my mutant ability. I am an Arcanist...magic is my specialty. However, my mutant power is my eidetic memory. I don't forget anything I've learned. It comes in handy for spells. But you know a thing or two about magic as well, don't you?"

"I—" she stammered,

_"We should get going,"_ Rimo telepathically communicated to Rich.

Taking the cue, Rich said, "We can discuss later. Be ready for anything."

"Take pause for a moment. What has transpired to give you alarm, vagabond?" Gaia asked as she crossed her arms, preparing not to move until she received a satisfactory answer. It was bad enough that they received the urgent message from Vanessa with no further explanation, but now, they had strangers ordering them around urgently for seemingly no reason.

"Look, I really don't have time for your untoward accusations and misguided comments. Like I explained to your friend, Monet's father was kidnapped and the same monster that did it may have attacked your school. It would behoove us to tread carefully in case the enemy is still around. Don't you learn this sort of thing here?"

"Hmph," Gaia disapprovingly replied while crossing her arms. "I have learned not to trust strangers. And you, vagabond, are a stranger, whether you realize it or not."

Lily, dread pulling at her, said, "Let's trust Rich for now. I'm really worried about everyone. He can help."

Gaia narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Rich. "Lily, only at your behest shall I proceed. Be warned, Rich Cale, at the first notion of hostility, I will render you unconscious. Now, let us make haste."

She brushed past him purposefully without a second glance, then fell into the shadows, taking light, purposeful steps. Lily smiled at Rich before falling behind her friend.

"And to think, you made me come here," Rich whispered, his annoyance snipping every word.

Though Rimo had a canine-line visage, a smile was visibly though his features. _"I like them both. I have a feeling the others will be just as interesting and fun. You're much too young not to enjoy this!"_

"We don't have time for fun. Emplate—"

_ "Has already made his move. You know that. The wheels are turning, Rich. And things will get far worse before they get better."_

"Remind me to call you when I'm having a bad day," he sourly stated. He too followed the two girls to the school, taking care to stay in the darker part of the grounds, safely covered by trees and bushes. Despite his initial impression of Gaia, she proved to be quite adept at stealth, leading them down a smart path that kept them completely out of sight from several angles. The thickness of the surrounding foliage even covered his flaming sword.

Once to the front of the school, Gaia stooped low and sprinted to the porch, pressing herself against the brick wall. She waited until Lily and Rich were next to her, before trying the doorknob. The door opened quietly, and she peeked her head around, ready to pull back at the slightest provocation, but the scene before her froze her in place.

"By the gods!" she gasped.

Lily and Rich glanced at each other nervously and knowingly before darting around her into the entryway. Before them, the remaining members of Generation X were sprawled lifelessly on the ground with toppled furniture scattered all around. Though it looked like there was a battle, judging from the proximity of the bodies, they must have all been hit at once.

"They're—"

"Alive. But hurt. I can feel their pain. But I can also help," Lily said, stepping in front of them. She held her hands to the side, palms skyward, as a soft glow emanated from her entire body. Her eyes closed, as her hair moved languidly through the air, and slowly, she rose from the ground a few inches as the ethereal light shone over the entire room. The warm white light washed over her teammates and friends, then intensified into a blinding radiance, causing Rich and Gaia to close their eyes, but Rimo sat fixated, watching closely.

But within seconds, it was over, and Lily collapsed, barely caught in time by Rich. He had already dismissed his sword and now held her upright, keeping her balanced.

"You overexerted yourself. Are you okay?" he gently asked.

There was an ache deep within her that throbbed, but she held back any overt sign of her agony. She shakily replied, "As long as they're okay, I will be too."

Gaia watched their fallen classmates carefully, and before she even saw them move, she felt a rejuvenating pulse surge through all of them. As they returned to life, she exclaimed, "They're stirring! You've recovered their vitality with your own might!"

Lily managed a relieved expression though the fatigue, realizing she used much more power than she intended, considering the number of injured people she healed at once. She was used to healing minor cuts, scrapes, and bruises, never having to deal with much more than that. But though not noticeable, the trauma was internal for most, ranging from broken limbs to slight internal bleeding. Whoever attacked them could have easily killed them, but his or her goal must have been to simply incapacitate them. Painfully. Long-term.

Knowing that someone out there could hurt them so easily and mercilessly, caused a raging blaze deep within her soul. A sudden need for revenge seeped through, and for a brief moment, her vision blurred and darkened, along with her heart. It beat against her ribcage, and it took a concerted effort to calm herself, just like when she faced Angora.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Rich asked. Though his question seemed sincere, Lily noted the hint of polite, unspoken prying intertwined within the inquiry.

Steadying herself, she hesitantly replied, "I—just—just a little weak. That's all. Please, make sure my friends are okay." She just needed some breathing room and hoped Rich would catch the hint.

He nodded, giving Rimo a knowing glance before joining Gaia, who tended to the felled teens. Slowly, they all stirred gingerly, announcing their arrival with pain-ridden moans and labored breaths. Lily remained by the entryway, her color slowly returning as she watched with concern.

While Rich helped an older gentleman to his feet, Gaia assisted Artie Maddicks, Leech, and Franklin Richards, listening to their frantic retelling of the sequence of events.

"Then there was this monster with these claws that chased us down the stairs!" Franklin relayed, his bright azure eyes wide with excitement and fear. He hadn't seen anything like that before, and he was sure his parents and uncles wouldn't believe what had happened.

"Monster try to hurt friends. Hurt Leech instead!" the youngster rubbed the side of his smooth cheek, the sting of Emplate's backhand still fresh.

Artie created a three dimensional facial icon with a frightened expression. The translucent image floated in midair, courtesy of the youngster's ability to project three-dimensional images.

Gaia clutched her heart, holding back her tears. She was still leaning to control her powers of empathy, but everyone's terror and shock were overwhelming, which only amplified her own feelings of anxiety. "I'm so sorry. I wish we had come back sooner."

Robert soothed her uneasiness, "Child, there would have been nothing you could have done. This Emplate monster was far too strong."

Personally, he was surprised that they weren't hurt far worse from the damaging wave of energy that took them out. However, as his eyes rested on a paled Lily, he surmised that her current condition must have had something to do with it, considering he understood her to have some sort of healing ability that could be projected to others.

Quickly fetching a glass of water, he returned in less than a minute, lightly encouraging Lily to take small sips, in an effort to restore her vitality. As he was tending to the weakened student, the complete stranger who accompanied Gaia and Lily addressed him with a polite, but pointed question.

"I'm not sure if I heard you correctly, but did you say that Emplate was here?"

Robert nodded, unsure of how much information to give him. However, with everything that happened, he couldn't afford to withhold information on unfounded suspicion alone. "Yes," he firmly answered, "there was no mistaking it. Some of the children seemed to know him."

Jono chimed in, overhearing the conversation, _"Yeah, we have history with that guy. Bad history."_ He noted Rich's strange look, as if he could tell that Jono was telepathically speaking to him with the illusion of actually speaking.

From across the room, Vanessa suddenly exclaimed, "The twins!" She frantically gazed from face to face, while scanning the rest of the room. "Where are they?!"

Rich shook his head, already surmising the outcome of the situation. "He took them. Emplate has them."

A frigid silence fell over the room, and Vanessa held back her own outburst of anger and tears. "He took them?! But—but they're his sisters. They'll be safe."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," he ominously warned.

Jono pulled out his phone, pressed a single speed dial button, and waited for the video to connect. Once the red-haired instructor appeared on the screen, he started his report, _"Banshee, Chamber here. We were attacked by Emplate. He...he took Nicole and Claudette. Everyone's here, including Rich Cale."_

Sean paused, absorbing what Jono just told him. That meant Emplate somehow infiltrated the school, probably attacked the students, and somehow was able to overcome them to ultimately kidnap the twins. Jono didn't mention anyone being hurt, which was a plus, but still, Nicole and Claudette were in the hands of an unpredictable monster, which left Sean far past the point of just being unsettled.

"Ah dinnae want ye leavin' th' school," he firmly said, leaving no room for argument. "The X-Men are takin' care o' Emplate. Ah'd rather have th' lot o' ye there as backup in case anythin' happens."

Jono's eyes flashed with defiance. _"We can't just sit here an' do nothin'. That pillock is out there, and there's no tellin' what he's tryin' to do. And he has th' twins."_

"Exactly why ye need t' stay put," Sean reasoned. "Ah don't want anythin' else t' happen t' ye. We're stayin' in th' town as backup fer th' police. Otherwise, we'd be right there with ye."

_ "Chamber out,"_ he announced before disconnecting. He didn't wait for a response from Sean at all. He didn't want one. He wanted to be able to go out, kick Emplate's ass, and rescue the twins. Instead, Sean acted as if they were incapable of doing anything but staying in the school. _"That's a load of ol' bullocks!"_ he shouted, startling everyone.

Rich frowned. "Well, you're junior X-Men and under their rules. I'm not. I'm going to find Emplate."

_ "Like 'ell you are. You have a lot to answer for, including just what the 'ell is going on."_

"You kids like wasting my time. Look I—"

_ "You're playin' by our rules, mate. Fer all we know, you could be chums with ol' Emplate. You picked quite a coincidental time to show up."_

Appalled and frustrated, Rich didn't hide his contempt. "You're blaming me for this?!"

_ "No. But I'm making sure that you're not one of the bad guys. You stay by choice or you stay by force, your choice. Mate."_

Sensing a continued escalation of the situation, Rimo telepathically said, _"This isn't the time to be bullheaded, Rich. He's got a valid point. To them, we are strangers. We're needed much more here than out there with Emplate. Your time to face him is not yet at hand."_

"Why the hell do you have to be so damn cryptic?" he snapped aloud back to Rimo.

Jono, slightly confused but still agitated, said, _"I don't think I'm saying anything that you don't understand."_

Rich crossed his arms, leveling his voice. "I was talking to Rimo."

"Your pet?" Lily inquired, glancing curiously at the foreign creature. When it gave her a semblance of a smile, she saw the animal in a different light, as something a little more human.

"Not quite."

Vanessa pointedly interjected. "Don't change the subject. What are you doing here?"

"He explained it to us earlier," Gaia explained, "though he continues to deny his involvement with the little girl with the red cloak, the reckless blonde, and the directionless siblings. Misfortune brought him to our doorstep—Monet's father was whisked away by Emplate as well. He needed help."

"I don't need help," Rich defiantly retorted, ignoring Rimo's piercing glare. Before he could say anything more, the other team entered through the front door. Everett, Jubilee, Graylon, Angelo, and Clarice stood in the doorway, quickly surveying the scene, and realized something had happened. Everett locked eyes with Jono, speaking volumes without saying a word.

_"It's exactly what you think, mate. We were attacked. Emplate,"_ Jono briefed. _"An' he took the twins. This guy,"_ he motioned to Rich, _"showed up suddenly with Lily and Gaia. An' apparently, he has some connection to everythin' that's goin' on."_

"Well, what's your stake in all this?" Robert asked, reviving the earlier question.

Clarice replied, "He's after Emplate. Or at least, that's what his journals say."

"He's also a magician," Graylon added. "Like the shady ass disappearing move you pulled on me at the airport."

His ire beyond measure, Rich's hands clenched at his sides. "You ransacked my room? And you keep company with annoying reporters?"

"I don't know what your problem is with me—" Graylon said, annoyed.

Jubilee stepped forward to ease the situation. "It's probably the same one we have with you too, blondie. Look angsty magic-dude, we didn't wreck your room, but Emplate's creepolas definitely did. Luckily, tha desk clerk was totally badass and used some spell to send those guys someplace else. But we had ta like find ya an' figure out what's goin' on."

_ "Dimensional holding spell. Not many can use it effectively. Interesting,"_ Rimo mentioned, but realized that Rich didn't hear him.

Rich said to the others, "Yes, I'm an Arcanist. I came here at Cartier's request. I figured there was trouble, and I was obviously right. I've been tracking Emplate for a while. I'm here to stop him, and to possibly save Marius, but if they separate, we could be dealing with something far worse. That's why we should—"

"Stay here," Everett stated without a doubt in his voice. "At least for the time being. I talked to Sean before we got here. Emma's with the X-Men. He wants us to monitor the situation from here. He's authorized the highest security lockdown setting until he gets back. I tend to agree with him on this one, sorry Jono. But if we're spread all over the place, we can't respond to any real threat, and we're increasing our chances of losing if we're not unified."

_"So we just huddle here and wait for it to be all over?"_ Jono asked with renewed anger.

Rich shook his head. "No, trust me, it won't be over. Not by a longshot. Your X-Men...they can't win against him."

Jubilee rolled her eyes, "Whatever. They—"

"Don't fight demons for a living," Rich interrupted, his patience dwindling. "They also don't know about Emplate. If he manages to separate from Marius, he'll be nearly unstoppable. I don't know what his intent is after that, but let's just presume that it won't be good."

Everett said to the group, "I know that this is tough. We're in a bad position right now. And Sean is right—the more thinly spread we are, the more vulnerable we are. We'll regroup here, keep in contact with Sean, and play the rest by ear. It's not like him to ask us to stay on the sidelines, but I have a feeling that if what Rich has said is true, things are only going to get worse."

An ominous silence fell over the group, each of them wondering just how much worse it could possibly get.

II.

Cartier St. Croix struggled against the thick, rough ropes wrapped around his wrists and ankles, holding him steadfast to a sturdy chair. It wasn't that long ago that he had awakened, surprised at his surroundings, only briefly remembering Emplate's assault against him. At this point, he could only hope that no one was hurt and that Rich somehow escaped without detection.

His vitality dwindled and struggling didn't seem to make the slightest bit of difference, so Cartier simply settled into the chair with a heavy sigh. Though Bishop previously issued a foreboding warning, he refused to believe that Emplate—Marius—would have ever attacked so brazenly, with no regard for innocent bystanders. If only he hadn't been so stubborn, he wouldn't have left himself in such a vulnerable position, but there was only so much lamenting—what was done was done. Now, he had to escape and figure out how to warn his daughters and their classmates of the impending danger.

But deep down, he knew that Emplate had already made his move, and there was no telling how they fared against his newfound power. Cartier tried not to think about it, focusing instead on using the powers at his disposal, but when he tried, pain shot through his chest, wrenching his breath away. Gasping and hurt, his shoulders slumped as he realized that he was finally in a situation that had no possible way out.

As he resolved to his fate, a figure moving at the edge of the shadows caught his eye. He peered closer, presuming that he/she/it was another creature enslaved by Emplate, guarding his new prisoner with mindless resolution, but as he/she/it neared, the fluidity of the movements and purposeful stealth made him rethink his initial conclusion, and when the figure finally came into the dim light, he gasped in disbelief.

"Monet? Surely, I must be dreaming," he dreamily whispered.

"No," she responded, tearing the ropes from her father's wrists and ankles with frightening ease. "You're not dreaming. I'm here. We're here—Nicole and Claudette as well. Father, what happened? How did you get here?"

Cartier swallowed, as a sense of relief passed over him. "I—I feared Emplate was attempting something dangerous. I was attacked last night, but Bishop, guided by Gateway, was able to rebuff the monster."

"Bishop?" Monet repeated.

"Yes. There is something about him that we should discuss—"

Monet set into a hard expression. "Now is not the time to discern his connection to our family. It is something I have purposely avoided. We shall simply focus on escaping from this place and regrouping with the X-Men."

"If they are here, then we have a better chance of dealing with Emplate. When I was attacked in the airport, I could feel his immense power. I fear that he has discovered a way to utilize the dark arcane arts to some nefarious end. I had to come here—to stop him."

"You should not have attempted to rectify this situation autonomously. We could have easily—"

"I know. But this is not your battle. Marius—Emplate—this is my burden to bear. Alone."

Monet let the ropes fall to the floor and helped her father to his feet.

"Dad!" Nicole, holding her twin's hand, approached from across the room, then threw her arms around him, feeling the security and safety of having him there. Claudette released herself from her sister and embraced Cartier on the opposite side, her body language saying more than she could ever vocalize.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for any of you to have to deal with this," he choked for a moment as his arms pulled his daughters close. "Thank the heavens you both are unharmed!"

"He's here!" Monet snapped around to face the shadows.

"Bravo, dear sister," a gravelly voice complimented, punctuated with slow, mocking applause. "You're becoming much more alert these days. It's harder to catch you and your X-Children friends off-guard," Emplate mused as he stepped into the dusky light, shadows splayed over his face and body.

"Do not advance any closer. I will hurt you. Badly."

"At the risk of hurting Marius? I don't think so."

"Though we are connected, you obviously do not know me well at all. I do not bluff."

Cartier shielded the twins and commanded, "Emplate, cease and desist! Your scheme must not progress any farther. I was blinded before, but I now understand what you aspire to achieve. You do not belong in this world, and it is not yours for the taking."

"You are the one that bound me here, old man. Besides, I...I—I want my family back. No, I—I must—must be—be FREE!" The psychic battle spiked, but to the naked eye, a second lapsed before there was a total change in Emplate's posture and demeanor. "That foolish child of yours," he spat, "wasting this precious power. His mind is weak, this body frail. But now, I can shed this body you imprisoned me in, Cartier St. Croix!"

Monet heard the claim, and she simply froze, unsure of what to think for several moments. _This body you imprisoned me in_—the words repeated in her mind as she debated within herself to fully accept that her father has a direct hand in not only cursing their brother to be forever intertwined with Emplate, but also creating the monster that has continually plagued, and several occasions almost killed them.

Monet's voice was cold and distant. "Father, are his claims valid?"

The icy chill in her voice stung Cartier to the core. "Yes," he replied with enough volume that indicated he stood by his decision, but soft enough to show regret and hurt over his decision. "I made a grave mistake, but despite what you may think, you do not have full control over him. That is why you have gathered us here, isn't it?"

"My will is not entirely my own, of that, you are correct. We have been together for so long that our thoughts are intertwined as one. The desire is to make us a family again—"

Monet did not let him finish. "We are not your family. You are simply inhabiting my brother's body and feeding off of him like the parasite you are. I shall not allow any of us to empower you with our fear—you are nothing."

"See, that is where you are wrong, dear sister. But I won't explain it any farther. She'll be able to explain much better..."

Monet's keen hearing detected a shuffling noise behind her, giving her enough time to whisk around and prepare to kick someone's ass. It wasn't until she focused on the figure staggering toward her did her blood freeze and rendered her speechless. Her legs threatened to give way, and though not prone to fainting spells, she felt as if the entire world was spinning and darkness would overtake her. She couldn't believe her own eyes, yet, no matter how many times she blinked, the figure continued to advance, features becoming clearer, making her realize the extent of Emplate's plan.

The figure in some ways was a derivative of Emplate—mouths on either hand, saliva dripping from every tooth as the mouths perversely opened and closed. Its fingers were long and claw-like and the unsteady steps were those of a storybook zombie, each step a challenge due to some unseen damage to one or both of the legs. But that was where the resemblance to Emplate ended and the real recognition began of the person who existed underneath the monstrous characteristics.

"Meré," Monet said in muted horror.

Nicole screamed, a normal reaction from an eight-year-old whose mother had been turned into something only seen in nightmares. She only remotely felt Claudette cry out mentally, pulling close to her sister while shielding her eyes.

"Do not look!" Cartier exclaimed, stepping to block the scene from their view.

A longing moan resounded as a reply as her mother, a hideous resurrection, continued its shambling advance, driven by the power of hunger and the desire to kill. She stopped short of Monet, adhering to the psychic commands of her master, Emplate.

Monet whipped around to face Emplate, her eyes burning with fury. "How could you?" she spat, her voice low and accusatory. "You've desecrated the memory and body of our mother with this hideous monstrosity! How could you?! If there was any iota of my brother left in that body, he would have NEVER allowed such a thing!"

Her insides burned, and Monet wanted nothing more than to destroy him. If it meant losing Marius, then so be it. There was no way that a monster like that deserved to live—not now, not ever. Her hands balled and angry tears stung the corners of her eyes, subsided only by the fierce glare boring through Emplate.

"My power is beyond measure. I can change this world into something more...an entire race to serve me as a god."

"Delusions of grandeur. Such a thing is cliché, no? And in that case, you must already know that there are people here to stop you. Resurrecting our mother does not change my mind."

He replied, "I am giving you the chance to be at my side as my host's family. This is not an opportunity you wish to squander away. Since your father bound me to him, I feel a certain...connection to him, and as such, an innate desire to spare your lives, even when I separate from him. Refuse, and I will make sure that your suffering is never-ending."

"I don't take kindly to threats, dear sir," Monet replied. Though she was sure that she could have easily bested Emplate if she were alone, she wasn't. She had to protect her father and sisters, which limited the action she could take. Immediately, there was no way out of simply holding Emplate at bay with words. Any engagement in an altercation would only endanger all of them.

This was one of the few times she regretted traveling alone, and for this brief and rare moment, she didn't know what to do. She simply steadied herself and waited to see what Emplate's next move would be, hoping that it wouldn't be the thing that destroyed them all.

III.

The mansion basement was much too labyrinthine and tenebrous for Rico Vidal to muster a good sense of direction. But he still led his fellow prisoners, to include Yvette Ninochka, Ty Sullivan, Vincent Sellenger, Jason Tate, and Craig Taylor, through the similar, winding corridors in hopes of at least finding a set of ascending stairs.

It wasn't too long ago that Rico and his teammate Vincent were on the road, cruising down the street in Sean's jeep. From nowhere, a mummified figure halted their progress and unexpectedly overpowered them with ease. From there, they awoke in shackles, among three other males, who were also inexplicably imprisoned. It wasn't until later that they discovered their kidnapper was Emplate, a vicious enemy of Generation X.

Luckily, due to the capture of Yvette, he was able to quickly plot and overtake Bulwark, setting them all free. And now, the crew of five stayed as quiet as possible, taking a slow, deliberate pace to emphasize stealth and to be ready for anything that may leap from the shadows.

A piercing scream halted them in their tracks as a frightened Yvette carefully huddled next to Rico's leg, taking care not to scratch him.

Rico hurriedly whispered, "I heard a scream!"

"You get the award for saying something stupid. Again. We all heard the same thing," Vincent responded, using a snippy response to cover his own terror.

Ty said, "Someone else is in trouble." The blond kept his voice low, his nearly clear eyes fixated on Rico, waiting for a reaction.

"What does that have to do with us?" Craig asked from his halted spot behind the others. "Aren't we supposed to be getting out of here?"

Agitated, and heart still racing, Rico responded, "Right. Listen, I'm one of the guys that runs toward the trouble when I hear a call for help. If you're with me, then cool. If not, you're on your own."

Craig felt insulted by Rico's response. It was true that he was scared, but at the same time, there was no need to rush into some unknown situation without knowing what they were getting themselves into. If someone was screaming, it was for a reason. And if they rushed in there haphazardly, they would probably be the ones screaming next. Why couldn't that stupid Generation X goody-two-shoes get that?

Hiding his embarrassment and agitation, he responded, "Well, what about the rest of you? I can't be the only one who wants to get the hell out of here."

"Don't look at me. I'm with the X-Hero and the mute girl," Vincent shrugged.

"I'm with you guys," Ty asserted, moving closer to Rico, Yvette, and Vincent.

In response, Jason said, "I'm not a hero, but I don't want anyone else to be a victim of that monster. I still feel a little weak, but I'll do what I can. I'm going too."

"Whatever," Craig disgustedly responded. It's not that he didn't want to help, but as always, he was made to look like the bad guy simply because he was with Arminthorpe. But really, if the roles were switched, he was sure that everyone would agree with the plan of retreating, simply because it was presented by a person with an X on his or her chest.

The others began to head towards the direction of the scream, which had died off and left behind a foreboding silence. Despite the vicious attack on the Generation X team, Craig had never been involved in some unknown plot with a dangerous, strange enemy. His enemies were teens his own age, which seemed much easier to engage with rather than a monstrous mutant vampire.

Though reluctant, he closed the gap between himself and the rest of the group, following them toward whatever awaited.

IV.

Jean Grey-Summers was no stranger to the workings of the Blackbird. Having trained with Scott Summers, Kurt Wagner, and Ororo Munroe, she served as a tertiary pilot and operator of the aircraft. It wasn't often that she took one of the front seats, but with her eidetic memory, she only had to learn the procedures once, which came in handy as she performed a quick ops check.

Her telekinesis expedited the procedures, as she learned long ago to perform multiple tasks simultaneously, adjusting her telekinesis appropriately for the necessary keystrokes and button presses. As soon as list of checks were complete, Jean powered the Blackbird down, satisfied that they could take off again if needed.

As she completed her task, she glanced at her teammates, who still remained unconscious after the vicious, unexpected energy attack racked the aircraft. The Blackbird had negligible damage, but she wasn't completely sure of the unshielded effect of the impact to the rest of the passengers. She closed her eyes, performing a thorough scan of her teammates' minds, checking pain receptors and overall functionality.

Luckily, the Blackbird shielded them from the brunt of the devastating effects, but the small part that did affect them was not kind to their bodies at all. The intensity of the attack caused an instant shutdown of bodily functions, with the exception of autonomic systems. Emplate could have done far worse, which is what concerned her—the attack was mild, which meant he was either sending a message or his power wasn't quite as developed as he needed.

Waking them up would be a delicate, time-intensive process, so, Jean instead turned her attention to the radio, making contact with Sean Cassidy. She relayed the current situation to him, then ended the communication just as the others began to stir, Logan being the first due to his healing ability, quickly followed by Kurt, Bishop, Scott, Peter, and Emma.

"Welcome to the land of the living, everyone," Jean said from the pilot's deck. A few moans were here response as she activated a quick medical scan for everyone. The results yielded zero injuries, which was a relief, especially considering the ferocity of the attack. "Looks like everyone's okay. Ops checks are looking good so far."

As her teammates became livelier, she glanced over her shoulder and noticed Bishop intently staring out of the window in the direction of the isolated mansion housing Emplate. More concerned about him at the moment, Jean paused and turned to him. "Bishop, is everything okay?"

The X-Man turned from the window, his face still wrought with tension. Bishop sighed heavily, his jaw clenching in frustration. "I can't figure out what Emplate is after. Honestly, he could have killed us back there, probably with relative ease. And I'm positive the kids are in danger too, considering his constant attacks on them. He attacked Cartier, and now he's wielding power that we've never seen before. There's something more...something that we're missing."

She nodded in agreement, feeling the same sense of mystery surrounding the current situation. But then again, maybe Emplate was just like Magneto, a villain who desired to have a rival audience than enemies to dispose of. Though it seemed like they were always in a life or death situation, surely there had to be some subconscious mercy provided. And the same could be true of this situation.

Noting Bishop's uncharacteristic pensiveness, Jean remembered something from his past. "Didn't you mention something before about Emplates in your timeline?"

His face turned grim, as he visualized the horrors the gang of creatures committed. "Yes...there were hordes of them, traveling in packs like wolves, devouring anyone they could get their hands on. I'm worried because there wasn't any written record of the actual incident that spawned the creatures. And we never discovered the original maker, if you will. But once I encountered Emplate, I knew that he had to have something to do with it."

Jean frowned at the prospect, but realized the danger of this situation quickly turning out of hand. Bishop traveled back in time to prevent death and destruction within his own timeline, and with this situation, he was going to be extremely focused to ensure that Emplate's plan did not come to fruition. She just hoped that they weren't too late—for his sake and the world's.

"Mein gott! I now understand how a tomato in a blender feels," Kurt moaned from the passenger seat, stretching his appendages. His amber eyes clenched as he worked out the minor pains from his joints and aches in his muscles. "Zat attack vas devastating."

"I agree," Emma said from the rear of the Blackbird. "But how did that St. Croix twit gain so much power? Last I recall, he could barely hold his own against the children. Now, he's successfully taken us out in the blink of an eye."

Logan, already fully recovered, added, "The broad's got a point."

"I'm no one's broad, Neanderthal," she retorted, restraining herself from giving him a psychic pinprick. Instead, she turned her attention to Scott. "So, fearless leader, what scheme have you concocted for us to save the day?"

Standing, Scott was next to Jean as she finished her checks, and once she reported the aircraft being fully functional, he turned to the rest. "First, let's curtail the attitude. It's not helping. Phoenix, lock back on Monet for remote viewing. She'll pass the information to Nightcrawler, who will teleport us in. If needed, we'll split up to locate Ambassador St. Croix, M, and the twins. Judging from his power, a direct confrontation wouldn't be the best course of action. We move in, locate, retrieve, leave. Emma, you can take the X-Scanner to analyze Emplate. The data should shoot back to Beast, who is on standby. He'll give us useful info, so if we have to engage, we at least know exactly what we're dealing with. Right now, we're only sure that Emplate is in there, but history shows that he probably has henchmen at his disposal...three is what we're going with. If a battle ensures, split into teams. Colossus and Wolverine. Emma and Bishop. Phoenix, you're with me. Nightcrawler, your sole responsibility at that point will be evacuation of the Ambassador, the twins, and any other civilians. M will serve as your cover and scout in case they are scattered in various locations. Questions?"

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Impressive. Let's just hope everything goes according to your perfect plan."

"One thing you'll learn, Emma, is that the best-laid plans always go awry. Nightcrawler, you're up."

Interlocking hands, the X-Men stood in a circle, as Jean enveloped them in a telekinetic shield, serving as a barrier against the swirling energies and the effects of teleporting through the foreign dimension.

"Is everyone ready?"

No sooner than he received the nods, Kurt tensed his body as he had done so many times before, and the slight tingle of his insides signified a successful jaunt. As they left the normal plane of existence and moved through the Dark Dimension, the familiar smell of brimstone, an indigo haze, and the _bamf_ sound filled the void they left behind within the Blackbird. The strain of teleporting others already began to toll on him, but he simply gritted his teeth and focused that much harder, blocking out the bubbling pain and nausea.

His spatial awareness kicked in almost simultaneously, and he instinctively understood the exact distance to teleport and location to ensure that no one ended up inside of a wall, which would have fatal consequences. The arrival atmosphere shifted slightly, then the empty air suddenly filled with the seven-man team of X-Men leaping to the ground, directly in between Emplate and Monet, who stood in front of her father and siblings.

This was the exact place that Scott didn't want to be. At all cost, he wanted to avoid a direct encounter with Emplate, considering the complexities of his existence, mainly the fact that Monet's brother was the monster responsible for all of this, but a battle would surely lead to severe in injury or death. Because Emplate was now a wild card, the outcome of a skirmish was unpredictable at best, but now, they had no choice.

Scott glanced behind them, noting the St. Croix family huddled together with Monet clearly in front of them as a protector. For her young age, he was always impressed not only with her vast amount of powers, but also her bravery and fortitude, matched only by her regal, lofty disposition. If anything, he was sure that if Monet wanted, she could be a welcome addition to the X-Men.

In front of them, Scott gave Emplate a scrutinizing once-over. He remembered Emplate being quite the monster, hunched over, imposing, downright creepy, but there was a different air about the enemy standing before them. The power display from earlier was just a snippet...the figure they now faced emanated a vast power, and the deep blaze within his scarlet eyes belayed focus for whatever scheme he had concocted. And no one would stand in his way.

However, the individual next to Emplate gave Scott pause. The woman appeared savage and bloodthirsty, as a wet tongue licked over her supple lips. Her eyes and her pallid, smoky skin matched Emplate's, and the mouths in her hands told Scott that she had been transformed into a vampiric slave. But there was something vaguely familiar about the woman that he couldn't quite place.

Emplate mused, "Now this just became interesting. The X-Men have arrived for the final scene. I would say it's unexpected, but you people tend to have nine lives and always stick your nose where it doesn't belong. Well, this only expedites the inevitable."

"Yeah, us kicking your ass, bub," Logan retorted, claws bared and ready for action. His keen olfactory sense caught the odor of decay, as well as three, not just two, scents he was completely unfamiliar with. He kept his senses on high alert, to keep from getting ambushed from the third person he couldn't see.

Scoffing, he replied, "Little man, how you amuse me."

Bishop, in the rear of the group and closest to the St. Croixs, asked, "Cartier. Monet. Nicole. Claudette. Are you okay?" He kept his large gun aimed toward Emplate as he spoke, keeping his eyes fixated on their enemy.

"We're fine. But Marius and Élénore...I—"

"Don't worry. We'll do what we can to save them."

Scott declared, "I'd advise you to stand down, Emplate. You're outnumbered and out-classed. I only issue warnings once."

Emplate smiled. "Well, let's even the odds, shall we?"

With a snap of his finger, the atmosphere immediately behind him bent, succumbing to a vacuum created by a shift in time and space. From nowhere, five figures stepped into existence, each with glowing red eyes and smoky skin, much like their summoner.

The first three figures were easy to retrieve as they were somehow banished to the same dimension Emplate himself was cursed to traverse. He didn't have time to ask, nor did he really care how or why they were there. More than likely, their mission of stopping Rich Cale must have gone awry, but it was of no consequence now.

The other two individuals were mutants that he had once upon a time met and fed from. They were powerful in their own rights and considering their inner hatred for Generation X for reasons unknown, they were prime recruits for his entourage of bodyguards. Considering the amount of difficulty his current members had, he hoped that these two were wildcard variables that would easily surprise and defeat any opposition. To include the X-Men.

"As homage to you, Emma, and your X-Men friends, let me introduce you to my Hellions. Mutants with a touch of magic. Bulwark. Shift. Wrap. Refrax. Buff."

"Cute," Emma icily responded. She studied each one, using the X-Scanner to record bio-centric information, which fed directly back to Cerebro. Skimming the highlighted output on the mini-screen, she raised an eyebrow, surprised at the information.

Emma was familiar with Bulwark from Jubilee's retelling of their last encounter. The muscular mutant had super strength, along with the standard compliment of invulnerability, resilience, and endurance. However, his attributes were comparable to a much younger Hulk, nearly ten times what he should have had.

Shift was Vincente Cimetta, the one who could change himself from a solid from to liquid or gas, from what she could remember. Sometime between then and now, he must have gotten a codename and a makeover. No longer a hazy purple shade, he was now a smoky grey with glowing red eyes, which matched his other comrades on either side.

She knew the mummy simply as Wrap but had no other information on him. In comparison, both Shift and Wrap seemed to have amplified abilities from their last encounter with Generation X. Though initially inexplicable, she was sure Emplate somehow amplified their power with his own newfound ability, making them stronger and much more dangerous.

Refrax was someone whom Emma hadn't seen before, but with a quick on-screen button press, Cerebro retrieved a dossier on him, which meant he was identified and cataloged at some point in the past. Kurt Pastorius was his real name, and his ability seemed to be much like Scott's—harness and release various types of energy from his eyes. While Scott had to wear a visor to control his, Kurt seemed to be completely in control as the energy burned from his eyes, climbing upwards like raging flames from the corners. Apparently, he also had x-ray vision and enhanced, normal vision as well.

Last was Buff, or Arlee Hicks. Like Refrax, she had a dossier in Cerebro, which revealed her power to be nearly the same as Bulwark—enhanced strength due to maximized physical development, invulnerability, resilience, and endurance. Her power readings nearly mimicked Bulwark's, and Emma shuttered thinking of having to battle two Hulk-like mutants.

Emplate said, "In another time, in another life, they could have been a part of your flock. But now, they are my personal Hellions. And they will ensure my success."

His team flanked him evenly on either side, unmoving, and kept their eyes focused on the X-Men.

Using a telepathic connection among the team, courtesy of Jean, Scott said, _"It looks like a fight is inevitable. Disrupt and detain. Maintain team integrity, and don't let your guard down. Emma, anything we should know?"_

_ "Aside from being a barrier between us and Emplate, these aren't exactly the same cretins we've faced before. Emplate has powered them to dangerous levels. Their minds are completely closed to me. Blocked. Jean?"_

Surprised Emma deferred to her, Jean took a moment before answering. Luckily, she had already performed a psi-scan of the unfamiliar mutants and had an assessment of the situation at hand. _"It would take time to break through the individual psi-barriers—time we don't have. A psychic attack or exploitation is out."_

Scott's firm jaw clenched, but he said nothing, keeping his gold-trimmed visor locked on Emplate. This was actually the first time he had seen the monster, relying on recounts of previous encounters from Sean and Emma for information. The monster's capabilities surprised him, creating a certain sense of the unknown, which only remotely bothered Scott. The team was powerful and flexible, so no matter what direction this encounter took, he didn't doubt for a moment that they would have the upper hand.

_"Maintain original plan,"_ he telepathically commanded to his team.

"Emplate," Cartier declared, hoping to avert the brewing conflict, "you are only making matters worse!"

"For me? Or for Marius? Cyclops, I would advise your team to stay where you are. You are too late. If you try to stop me, my Hellions will destroy you. Am I clear?"

Emma didn't know Scott all that well, but she knew that he, like Logan, did not take kindly to challenges or minimizing rhetoric. She figured that a crimson beam of energy would pierce through Emplate's chest in a matter of seconds, but their enemy still had questions to answer. She quickly interrupted, "Enough stalling. Where are the kids you kidnapped?"

She was answered by the sound of footsteps coming to a halt on the opposite side of the room. Sure enough, three familiar faces graced the group—Rico Vidal, Vincent Sellenger, and Yvette Ninochka. Three other teens were with them—more than likely, they were the reported missing teens. Overall, they appeared unharmed, which relieved her more than she would ever reveal.

"Right here, Ms. Frost!" Rico answered with a huge grin. But then his eyes fell to the X-Men lined next to her, Monet and her family only a few feet away, unfamiliar mutants standing in a line behind Emplate, and the monster himself. His stomach tightened and his palms began to sweat—there was going to be a fight. A large one.

Emplate turned his scarlet, piercing eyes toward the group. "Ah, and we are joined by my young, supple meals. Welcome."

Jason stepped forward, internally testing out his strength. He didn't feel that he was a one hundred percent, but he felt enough energy to launch an offensive attack or two if needed. His anger and adrenaline only fueled him more as he replied, "Enough. You'll pay for what you did."

"Yeah, what he said," Rico added, covering his trepidation with false bravado. "And your goons too."

Emplate smirked, then turned his attention back to the X-Men and St. Croix family. "Well, it seems we have a full house. The audience suits me just fine. Bear witness to my ascension, Hellions, do not let them near until the ritual is complete." At the last word, the six Hellions launched stepped forward, creating a half-circle formation in front of Emplate, making him completely inaccessible.

"Scott, please! You must not let him do this!" Cartier pleaded.

The leader of the X-Men had paused only because of Emma's well-timed inquiry. But now, Emplate had made the first move. Scott nodded to the Ambassador and steadied himself—there was no other option. _"Battle plan, X-Men! Hold until I give the word,"_ he telepathically commanded, then gave a nod to Kurt. _"M, take your father and sisters—stay with Nightcrawler and the rest of the kids. We're getting you out of here."_

Monet couldn't believe that Scott was asking her to leave. It wasn't that she didn't want to protect her family, but she had the most history and background with Emplate. She valued herself as an asset to any team facing him and immediately presumed Scott was simply mistaken with removing her from the fight.

Emma telepathically said, _"I know that you want to argue, Monet. This isn't the time. You know that better than any of us. We'll take care of things here—I need you to take care of your family and the others."_

Taken aback, Monet paused briefly, surprised at her instructor's direction. Emma had never spoken to her quite like that—a mix of firm directive and caring. And she was smart enough to know when to heed the advice of someone else. She locked eyes with Emma, gave a brief nod of understanding, then ushered her sisters and father toward the other end of the room, away from Emplate.

"Wait, we didn't get briefed on the battle plan, Cyclops!" Rico stated already feeling the air currents responding to his command. Using his power in such a limited space could be disastrous, but he didn't want to simply stand around helpless. He saw Monet making a move with her family towards them, probably as a result of the mysterious, unknown battle plan from Scott. He wanted to know who to blow away. Literally. And fast.

"Because, you're not a part of it," Emma responded, rolling her eyes at the dejected expression that overtook Rico's face.

Vincent replied, "Like hell we aren't!" He could feel the air responding to his command, the temperature changing slightly at his command. At this point, he wasn't quite sure he could create and maintain a large flame. Plus, he wasn't quite sure how safe it would be in such a limited space.

In just knowing Rico's powers, they both suffered from the same problem—their powers were most effective in large, open areas and much harder to control within smaller ones. The wrong move most likely would endanger friends and teammates, which almost made them useless in situations like this.

In assessing the abilities of Craig and Jason, they too would be more effective in a spacious area. The only one of their team that would be able to effectively participate in a battle would be Yvette, but considering her age and history with Emplate, he was sure that Emma wouldn't want her anywhere near this place.

Before Vincent could do anything else, there was a shift in the air, then a distinct _bamf_ sound, followed lastly by the unmistakable smell of brimstone and sulfur. In the next instant, a demon appeared in front of them, hunched over, three elongated fingers and toes, prehensile tail, yellow glowing eyes, sharp canines—but managed a friendly smile. "Meine freunde, I am Nightcrawler. You must come vith me."

Rico noted that they all were taken aback with Yvette cowering behind him but peeking out with curiosity. He heard Jason gasp, then catch himself in an uncertain manner. Vincent's breath caught, though he scowled hard to hide his fearful expression. And Craig took an uneasy step backwards, edgy because everything was happening so fast.

"He's cool. Don't worry," Rico reassured the group. "He's one of the good guys. But Nightcrawler, we don't have to leave—we can help." He couldn't believe that he was actually talking to one of the famed X-Men, and secretly, his insides were jumping with joy.

Monet closed the gap, accompanied by her twin sisters and father. After hearing the last comment, she said, "You are not at your fullest capability. None of us are. But the X-Men are. We cannot provide viable assistance in our current state. And this is no time for pride or obstinacy. Nightcrawler, can you teleport all of us at once?"

"Zat is ze plan, frau."

Rico nodded, agreeing with Monet's observation. Though he wanted to fight alongside the X-Men, if they were not viable assets of the team, then they would simply become a vulnerability, much to their detriment. "I never thought I'd say this," he said, "but I'm glad to see you, Monet. Quick intros—Ty, Jason, and Craig—Riptide, the guy that attacked us at the Corporation. Lightning, earth, and water manipulation. Combined with my wind and his," he pointed to Vincent, "fire manipulation, we make up the basic five elements. Kiana was right."

"I was afraid of that," said Cartier, his gray brows furrowed with concern. Creases hardened the Ambassador's face, and worry seemed to age him twenty years. To the group, he asked, "Has he absorbed your powers?"

Jason nodded, becoming the spokesperson for the group for the moment. "Yes. All of us. Several times."

"Curse him. And I," Cartier replied, scanning the group. His eyes rested on Yvette, who at first shied away, sinking farther behind Rico. But he softened his expression and even offered a slight smile, and was surprised when she smiled in return.

"Ve must go quickly," Kurt hastily reminded the group. He was sure Scott was waiting on him to get them to safety before engaging Emplate and his Hellions. And the longer they waited, the more risky the situation became.

Monet noticed her father take a retreating step. "You are not accompanying us to safety, are you?"

Regretfully, he shook his head. "No, I must stay to see this to the end. I only came over to ensure you and your sisters escape this place immediately."

"Dad!" Nicole cried out.

"Go with Kurt," he directed. "He is a fine fellow and will make sure you are safe. I shall be close behind with the rest of the X-Men."

Emma's words came back to her, so instead of contesting his decision, she said, "Do not make yourself into a liar. Do not do anything to endanger yourself. And if you can, save our brother. Do not allow that monster to continue making a mockery of our mother's memory."

Nicole and Claudette wrapped themselves around him, protesting as any daughters would, but at the same time, showcasing the maturity to let their father go. The twins pulled back, Nicole with tears in her eyes, and Claudette with a melancholy expression. Monet then embraced Cartier briefly, then turned away, refusing the urge to cry herself.

Assisting Kurt, Rico instructed, "Everyone, grasp hands. Yvette, interlock arms between Vincent and me." The group followed his direction quickly and was joined by Monet, Claudette, and Nicole, rounding out the joined circle.

"Are we going to be okay?" asked Nicole.

"We'll be fine," Monet answered reassuringly. "Just hold my hand, and don't let go of Claudette."

"She is right—hold onto each other, and do not let go for any reason," Kurt reiterated. Before anyone could respond, he tensed and the entire group disappeared with a _bamf_ sound. In the next second, they reappeared within close proximity to the Blackbird, which remained untouched a bit of distance away from the mansion.

"I don't think I ever want to do that again," Jason said. His stomach and equilibrium felt unsettled as if he had rode a high-velocity rollercoaster, complete with twists, turns, loops, and drops. Ten times over. If that is what teleporting felt like, he was glad that his mutant abilities were something a little less detrimental to his health.

"Are you kidding?! That was awesome!" Rico exclaimed, his fanboy excitement finally getting the best of him.

Monet, thankful for her invulnerability which protected her from the ill effects, noticed Kurt stagger a bit. "The jaunt strained you," she said, checking her sisters visually. After she determined they were fine, she went to his side for support.

"I vill recover. Ze others are vaiting—" he stopped, eyes wide in horror as intense streams of light shot from somewhere inside he mansion, as if a star was exploding. The brilliant rays intensified and a deep rumbling shook the ground, causing Kurt's fine indigo fur to stand on end. He wasn't sure what had happened, but his stomach knotted, realizing that somewhere at the center of the commotion were his own teammates.

But before he could even begin to think about teleporting back into the structure, there was a forceful explosion and suddenly, the mansion turned into a pile of rubble and debris, surrounded by felled dead trees, with no sign of any other life. His heart skipped a beat and his breath caught as he realized that the psychic connection to the others was completely severed at the same time.

"Where are they, Nightcrawler?" Nicole asked. "What happened to them? They're okay, right? Our dad is okay, isn't he?"

His fatigue and disorientation forgotten, all Kurt could wonder was how he was going to answer her questions and what would happen next.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional

Richard Cale and Grimore are characters created by Richard B. Sampson Jr., who has work posted as well. They are used with permission

AOTRS Commander: Ha! Yes, the kind of Hellions didn't fare so well, but after reading this chapter, they have been officially dubbed as such, and they may now be a force to be reckoned with! And bonus points if you know the two additional characters! Yes, things are definitely about to get a little more interesting...hold on to your hat!


	39. Emplate's Revenge, Part 7

I.

Marius St. Croix felt that something was terribly wrong. The energies that pulsed through his body were foreign and unstable, as they burned white hot within him. But try as he might, there was no way to expel them—not while Emplate was in total control. His willpower weak, he could only watch as his body, inhabited by a demonic force, moved autonomously of his own desires, leaving him totally at the mercy of the other psyche within.

He had lost his moment of potential triumph moments ago in a psychic battle between himself and Emplate. Every now and again, he mustered enough energy to exert himself, but the monster was just too dominant, so his essence always ended up either buried or intermingled. As of now, the psyches were a mixture of the two—Marius understood all there was to know about Emplate and vice versa, their minds acting as one, though not necessarily in agreement.

Now, he stood facing the X-Men, with a fortified barrier of his Hellions, mutants who had pledged themselves to Emplate's cause, granted the maximum potential of their respective powers for that purpose. But unbeknownst to the heroes, the spell had already begun—the ultimate power that would undo the actions of Cartier St. Croix so many years ago. Emplate would be free once again, but Marius wasn't sure where that would ultimately leave him or whether he would even survive.

When Cartier reentered the scene, Marius felt a certain sting of apprehension. Things weren't going to go well, and he hoped that the X-Men and the members of Generation X would survive long enough to put an end to Emplate. But with the plans and power now stampeding through his head and body, he was quite sure that whatever happened would only make the situation worse. Much worse.

II.

Scott Summers shot his trademark optical crimson beam across the room, targeted at Emplate, but it deflected in a spectacular clash of light. He surmised that the swirling, visible illumination surrounding their enemy was acting as a shield, impenetrable by any outside force or energy, so the attack was more of an unspoken push to begin the inevitable battle. And, wasting no time, the Hellions engaged with the X-Men, much more ferociously than predicted. The similarly ashen characters, narrowed their glowing red eyes, then sprang forward at once, turning the room into a raging battlefield, punctuated with grunts, shouting, flashes of power, and hand-to-hand combat. They were relentless in their attacks, following only the unspoken orders of their master, empowered by seemingly limitless vitality, endurance, and durability. No matter how many blows each of them took, they would rise again without hesitation.

_"Phoenix, can you get to Emplate?"_ Scott telepathically asked as he retaliated against Bulwark with a sharp below to the ribs, then transitioned into a textbook Judo throw, sending the behemoth sailing over his head. Rising back to his feet, a quick optic blast saved Emma Frost from a rushing attack by Wrap.

Buff threw a heavy statue with ease, and Jean caught it telekinetically with the same finesse. With minimal effort, she then threw it back with twice as much force, and when the stone statue collided and broke, the resulting impact knocked the girl back several feet. Content her adversary was down temporarily, she telepathically responded, _"Negative. The Hellions are positioning themselves to keep us at bay. Whatever Emplate is doing, our chances of stopping him are going downhill fast."_

Scott didn't like the sound of that, but he trusted his wife's assessment. The Hellions were only there as a distraction, so somehow, they had to get to Emplate quickly.

"Colossus, Logan! Fastball special! Take Emplate down now!" he commanded. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Emma and Bishop fending off Élénore, protecting Cartier St. Croix.

"Alright, you heard the man, Petey!" Logan announced as he took a large leap backwards, planting his feet in the large left hand of his teammate. With a grunt, Peter hurled Logan towards the appointed target, and the Canadian glided through the air, claws extended directly in front of him. He flew over the action soundlessly and was only a few feet away from Emplate when the air noticeably changed.

Logan smelled the difference in the air, due to his heightened olfactory sense, and then felt the thick mist swirl around him, completely stopping him in midair, while still keeping him aloft. It wasn't simply an air attack, the mist was alive—the distinctive smell of a person permeated every strand of the mist. And when he looked up, he was staring into a translucent visage of a Hellion.

"Ah, Wolverine. Nice to see you," Vincente, now called Shift, greeted. "Allow me to introduce you to Refrax."

From the ground, the young, slender man shifted his energy-laced gaze toward Logan, who floated helplessly in the sky. With a smirk, he let the energy tear forth, blasting the X-Man out of the air with an overture of laughter from his teammate.

The attack caught Logan directly in the chest, knocking the wind out of him as he tumbled head over heels through the air. But his resilience and pride fueled a throaty growl as he tucked into a flip, then landed on his feet.

With a smirk, he said, "Cute tactic. Lemme show ya how it's really done." Logan charged in like a bull, watching closely as Refrax stood his ground. He picked up speed, while his senses honed in on every possible aspect of his opponent, and when he detected an increase in heart rate, he cut to the left as another eye blast came his way.

He ascertained the boy's ability quickly, and realized that Refrax was quite similar to Scott, minus the tactical edge and finesse. They also had the same flaws, such as restriction to linear attacks. Once he identified the next round of attack, he could easily dodge and close the gap between them, which is exactly what he did, much to his opponent's surprise.

Refrax wasn't proficient at hand-to-hand combat, so when the X-Man he blasted earlier closed in with a flurry of punches and kicks, he was totally helpless. Assaulted and bruised, he fell to the ground, completely unconscious.

"Class dismissed, bub," Logan spat, as he turned his attention back to Emplate. The creature, now glowing in an ethereal light, pointed a hand at him and fired a mystical blast. It happened much too quickly, and the burning energy hit him directly in the chest. The feral mutant fell, but transitioned into a backwards roll that reset him to his feet.

"Alright," he seethed as his adamantium claws erupted from his hands with a distinctive _snikt_ sound. "Playtime is over."

"Do not worry, friend. I will take care of this," Peter Rasputin, the steel-skinned, Russian X-Man said as he charged at full speed towards Emplate.

"Stay behind me!" Bishop commanded to Cartier and Emma, and to the others, he said, "I've got Colossus covered! Take care of the rest!" With his firearm set to stun, he fired off precise pulse rounds, successfully taking out Élénore and clearing a direct path to Emplate. But when Colossus stepped within a few feet of their enemy, he was repelled violently, and Bishop knew they were in trouble.

Emplate's face contorted into a triumphant grin as he took an angled step forward. Like separating gum from the underside of a shoe, strings of reality clung to the creature as the figure of Marius St. Croix stayed frozen in place. The scene seemed surreal, and for a moment, Bishop shook his head in an effort to ward off the abstract scene.

"My god," Cartier whispered. "We're too late."

The form of Marius St. Croix autonomously stood for a few moments, wobbling with uncertainty, until he collapsed onto the floor, unmoving. In front of his still body stood Emplate in his true form—a dusky creature with sharp features and an evil, toothy grin.

"I am free," he growled, locking eyes with Cartier. A hearty laugh signaled his departure, as Emplate's solid form dematerialized from existence.

"He's teleporting! If he does that—we must not allow him to escape!"" Cartier urgently shouted. But the cacophony of battle easily subdued the elder's now raspy voice, and the warning went unheeded. Fearing the worst, he steadied his resolve, locking eyes with his new enemy.

Emplate continued to vanish, his form becoming more translucent by the second. "You are much too late, sorcerer..."

"I will sacrifice everything to stop you."

"No. You won't."

"Yes, I will," he replied with cold resolution.

Only a split-second after Cartier made his critical, final decision, Jean _heard_ the idea through the psychic connection established with the team. But it wasn't as simple as just hearing his plan, she understood exactly why he needed to take such desperate measures, and it had everything to do with Bishop. As much as she comprehended the larger picture, there were blind spots that couldn't be immediately discerned, so there was absolutely no way she could simply allow Cartier to sacrifice himself. Or recklessly hurt everyone else.

With the speed of thought, the X-Man called upon her powers as the Phoenix, a power much deeper and cosmic than her telekinesis and telepathy alone. The infinite energy augmented and boosted her own abilities to indescribable levels, which was the only way they would survive. Immediately, she created personal telekinetic shields for each of her teammates, then reinforced the protection with all of her might, unbeknownst to the rest.

Clasping his hands together, Cartier's entire body emanated an amber glow. "I invoke the endless power of the Ancient One! Channel your destructive energies through me to smite the evil that perverts our dimension!" He pulled his hands apart while small flecks of light gravitated toward the space, building and expanding in fractions of a second. The growing orb of light illuminated the entire room, as pulsing energy shook everything. "I sacrifice what I must to ensure the safety of the future, accept my soul as my collateral exchange! Spell of Absolution!"

The entire environment responded to his voice as unknown energies clashed against the oppressing power Emplate now wielded. Cascading forces abounded, and their exponentially increasing strength rendered cracks in the stone walls and floors. The pressure of the power increased against Cartier's his body, and soon, he knew it would crush him. Despite his personal sacrifice, he made sure to broadcast his final move—he understood enough of Jean's power to be confident she would react quickly enough and exert enough effort to save her teammates.

He was obviously less concerned about himself, feeling that this sacrifice was fate, considering his own personal loss. In trying to be strong for his daughters, he neglected being strong for himself and felt his actions were the only way for redemption. The thought of his daughters hit him only for a moment, before darkness completely took over.

Powerful forces stampeded throughout the room, and Emplate was impressed that a mere human was able to summon such destructive energy. However, it wasn't enough to even remotely faze him in his current incarnation. He was free from human limitation and frailty, restored to his god-like, former existence. And it felt good.

As Cartier collapsed from the overexertion and the sacrifice of his soul, Emplate released a hearty, triumphant laugh. "You are a fool, Cartier! You have done nothing but taken yourself out of the fight. And I will reign supreme!"

Jean only had a moment of shock in reaction to Cartier's loss of consciousness. The forces battering against them were nothing like she ever felt before, rivaling the energies she wielded as a host for the Phoenix. But she was determined to protect everyone, and as she had learned many times before, determination can overcome any obstacle or adversity. Especially one whose power was based on sheer will.

She strengthened her shields around her teammates, keeping them in place while managing to repel the physically devastating effects of Cartier's spell. Though they were protected, the mansion around them succumbed to the assault and quickly began to cave in, threatening to bury them all.

As the spell continued to ravage the mansion, Emplate phased out of existence, leaving a whispered statement, "And now, my reign begins."

For just a moment, Jean wondered if they would survive. It wasn't the first time their lives were in jeopardy, but it wasn't any easier when facing insurmountable, potentially fatal situations. But when a circle of light appeared underneath them all, it was a surprise to say the least. She instantly recognized the portal, better known as a stepping disk. The forces behind it enveloped them quickly, abruptly changing their situation from bad to worse.

Before she could communicate to Kurt or her other teammates, they completely vanished from this realm into a world far more dangerous and threatening.

III.

Michael Lawson splashed a handful of water on his face, thankful for the cool, refreshing jolt. His headache had subsided, and he felt much more focused on the current situation involving Emplate and the kidnapped teens, instead of being distracted by his recent discoveries. Only earlier in the day, he learned the tragic history of the St. Croix family and how it related to Emplate. That information was piled on top of the discovery that he was integrated with the Phoenix, a powerful cosmic being linked to his teacher, Jean Grey-Summers. Not only that, but the looming mystery of their mentor, Dr. Niles Cain, still hadn't been fully resolved. For him, it seemed that the punches just kept coming, but some reassuring words from his teammates and teachers finally began to take hold, putting him in a better disposition to deal with everything.

Only moments ago, he had excused himself to go to the restroom. The time away from the others was good, considering he could relax his telepathic shields slightly. When in close quarters with others, he had to concentrate even more on keeping others' random thoughts out of his head, and with everything else going on, the strain was wearing on him. But the fact that he was able to let down his guard so easily was surprising, considering there should have been more people around in the police station.

Dismissing his concern as foolish, Michael tended to his affairs within the restroom, culminating with a thorough hand-washing at one of several ceramic basins lined on the far wall. He splashed some more water on his face, patted it dry, then glanced in the mirror, glad that he looked better on the outside than he truly felt on the inside. Sienna brown, intense eyes stared back at him, a compliment to his chocolate complexion and black, well-groomed hair. He studied the smoothness of his cheeks and chin, wondering when facial hair would develop, when a strange noise froze him in place.

It wasn't like him to be jumpy, but with everything going on, he couldn't help but to feel edgy. He thought about calling out to see if someone was there but quickly reconsidered. Being a horror movie fan, it was inevitable, Michael presumed, that the noise wasn't made by some benevolent entity who would return with a kind response. It was probably some hideous creature with the desire to eat his brains!

Michael shook his head in spite of himself. _Pull it together,_ he told himself with a lighthearted smirk. _You're just scaring yourself. There's nothing—_

The lights went out.

_ Really? Of all times...it's probably Ethan messing around,_ he rationalized, battling the rising panic. There was already something frightening about foreign bathrooms in the first place, but throw a power outage in the equation, and it turned into a nightmarish chamber, dooming his soul to eternal torture. Uneasy, he breathed slightly as to remain quiet, listening for the sound again.

He heard it, but there was also a strange shift in the air. Michael wasn't alone.

With a tentative step forward, the faint light from the ceiling only created more menacing shadows. Then it appeared, and Michael sucked in a breath, immediately paralyzed as his mind tried to decipher the figure in front of him.

Its face was horror made flesh with sharp features, much too sharp to be human. Jutting cheekbones, angular eyes, and a sunken, pointy nose combined to create an abhorrent visage. Completing it was a ferocious mouth, a gaping hole of jagged teeth that gnashed together hungrily. But to top it off, when the hunched creature poised its clawed hands in an aggressive gesture, Michael caught the perverse mouths on either hand that opened and closed as violently as its mouth.

_Emplate?_

No. It couldn't be. It was much too slight and seemed dangerously primal. But there was no mistaking the familiar traits. However, his analysis halted when the creature lunged for him.

In what seemed like natural instinct, Michael stepped back, shifting his weight slightly and concentrated on a quick telekinetic blast that sent the creature toppling through the air until smashing into the opposite wall. His heart thudded in his ears, and breathing steadily required a concerted effort as adrenaline coursed through his body. And as the creature rose again with an angry hiss, the young man curtailed his usual restraint, and with a grunt, used all his might to slam the creature into the wall repeatedly until it was limp in his telekinetic grasp.

Panting and sweating, he released the creature, letting it slide to the floor. Before he knew it, he dashed out of the bathroom and sprinted down the long hallway, only thinking of getting to the others before that creature somehow did. But when he heard the unmistakable wail of his teacher, Sean Cassidy, Michael knew that things had taken an unmistakable turn for the worst.

IV.

When the lights suddenly went out, alarms went off in Sean Cassidy's mind. All things considered, a power outage that affected the entire police station couldn't have been happenstance, especially when the rest of his students, coupled with the X-Men, were battling a demon presumably for the fate of the world.

Only thirty minutes had passed since his last communication with long-time X-Man and teammate, Jean Grey-Summers, known by her recently self-appointed codename of Phoenix. She briefly described a minor setback with their investigation into the whereabouts of Emplate, but ultimately, she seemed confident that they would be able to address the situation without escalation. However, he hadn't heard anything from the splinter team and none of them were answering their communication devices.

"Did somethin' happen t' th' power?" Sean rhetorically asked, his mind whirling through several explanations. He glanced toward Dan Authier, the chief of police, who returned with a concerned expression.

Dan said, "That's weird. The generator should have kicked in." He rose from his desk slowly, his methodical movements belaying his rising apprehension. The darkened room was draped in angular shadows, hiding something within their never-ending void. He laughed at himself for getting so riled up, until some of the shadows moved.

"Look out!" he called, just as the room broke into chaos. His guests reacted swiftly and decisively, despite the surprise attack. Kiana Asahara, the young Asian, wielded a mysterious sword that emitted a soft glow, which not only gave them some light, but served as a formidable weapon against some foreign creature. Ethan Callaghan used precise hand-to-hand techniques, coupled with enhanced speed and strength to take down three adversaries. He glanced to the left to see the blonde with a hint of a Southern accent, Paige Guthrie, glistening as if made of metal while delivering sound blows to her targets.

Dan reached for his gun, but was halted by searing claws that tore through his shoulder with horrifying ease. Cursing past the hot pain, he spun around with a wild backhand, catching the creature somewhere in the face before he somersaulted over his desk. He caught a subtle gesture from Sean and ducked while the Irishman unleashed a sonic scream that blew the creature through the wall.

"Thanks. I owe you," he gratefully as Sean helped him to his feet. He gingerly tended to his injury, which was minor considering the vicious attack. He put pressure on his shoulder to stop the bleeding, but before he could pose any inquiries, he was abruptly interrupted.

The office door blew inward, courtesy of a forceful telekinetic entrance by Michael Lawson, whose face was a mix of fear and distress. He glanced around, noting the unconscious creatures sprawled about, and his teammates recovering from a quick, decisive battle. "There's more of them?" he questioned disbelievingly.

"What the hell were those things?!" Dan asked.

"I—I don't know. I was attacked by one in the bathroom. It—it looks like Emplate."

Ethan cast a quick glance to the fallen monsters, only now noticing the similarities. "Yeah, you're right."

Michael nodded. "They're similar. They have mouths in their hands just like him. But they look more dangerous and less human. But I don't know where they came from. It's like they appeared from nowhere."

"No," Kiana definitely answered. "Right before we were attacked, I felt something change in the atmosphere. Considering their sudden appearance, I would say that it was some kind of magic-based teleportation."

"Teleporting? But from where?" Ethan asked.

Sean rubbed his dark red stubble. "Emplate can travel through some unknown dimension. Maybe th' creatures are coming from there, which means somethin' went wrong with th' other team." His stomach knotted with worry for his fellow X-Men, students, and Emma, but maintained a neutral, focused expression to keep the others from being concerned.

"Then we have to get to them," Paige said as she shed the metal husk to reveal her natural, soft skin and hair underneath. She then turned to Michael and asked, "Was there anyone else out there?"

"No, I didn't see anyone. And there's way too much psychic interference...I can't really tell if there's anyone else in the police station."

"I don't like this. Not one bit. If people are disappearing, and this Emplate thing and these creatures are taking them, the whole town may be in danger. The festival is tonight. We have to get out there and warn people."

"Aye. Let's go," Sean said. Touting the confidence of an experienced X-Man, he led his team out of the building and into the town, where he was sure they would face more of those creatures. He just prayed that Monet was wrong, and they weren't too late.

V.

Before the vicious attacks began, Jude McDowell was simply enjoying being out of the confines of the security office. Since the kidnappings, he volunteered to work longer hours, acting as a communications hub for the search parties, as well as a focal point for any related calls. But so far, there hadn't been any sign of the three missing teens, which was discouraging and frightening. He hoped that this whole thing was some kind of mistake, and the three guys would come from hiding with huge grins on their faces. But that was just wishful thinking, trumped by images of the worst possible outcome continually popping in his head.

Chief Dan Authier must have somehow known everything was bothering him. The police chief appeared unannounced and ordered him to shut down the office and accompany Tracy and Jude's sister, Rena, to the town festival. Any attempt to argue was immediately shut down, so eventually he acquiesced, found the two girls, and strolled with them to the park, where the main festivities were stationed.

The festival itself was a one hundred seventy-two year old tradition, celebrating the town's settlement. It was a tourist highlight, attracting people from all over the state to enjoy the outdoor concerts, dancing sets, homemade food, and socialization among the townspeople. And so far, it was the best to date.

Despite the lively festivities, he couldn't help but to remember that the three missing teens were still gone. Kidnapped. Vanished without a trace. The town as a whole was worried, and there was even talk of cancelling the festival, but the teens' parents thanked everyone for all of their efforts and wanted the festival to continue as a celebration of the town's unity, even in times of distress. So, it continued, even under the looming shadow of the abductions, and it seemed like a needed breath of fresh air, especially for him.

"Come on, Jude. You're being so slow!" Rena McDowell called from about twenty feet in front of him. She spun around with an impatient expression, which always made her piercing brown eyes flash. Hands on her hips, she waited until Jude was close before pressing forward, catching up to Tracy Authier.

"Sorry," Jude apologized. "I was just thinking."

"You were thinking about the kidnappings, weren't you?" Tracy inquired. She had known Jude since they were five years old, and his pensive expression hadn't changed one bit over the years—furrowed brow, slight frown, and darkened eyes.

He sighed heavily. "I don't know. It just bothers me that no one knows what happened to them. The police have been working overtime, and I swear that the kids from Xavier's were in his office when I left, offering to help. But still...I guess it's just weird because nothing quite like this has happened before."

Rena frowned. "There have been some pretty weird things around here, especially around Xavier's. Did you forget Conner's story?" she asked, reminding them of what they already knew. Their older brother, Conner, along with his rabblerousing friends, decided to harass the school during Halloween. But they were caught severely off-guard by the prepared teen mutants and were ultimately scared away. As soon as they got back into town, they retold their story to whoever would listen.

"I know," Jude stated with a roll of his eyes. Though he admired his older brother, he couldn't help but think that Conner and his friends deserved what they got. He continued, "But now that Mike is going there, I just don't think of that place the same as everyone else."

"Me either," Tracy quickly agreed. "If you get to know those guys up there, they're actually pretty cool. Well, some of them anyways."

Rena scrunched her face disapprovingly. "Ick! I just don't even want to think about being friends with someone who can rip off her skin or some boy that has fire blowing out of his chest. Mike is okay, but it still weirds me out that he's up there with people like that."

"You've been hanging around Conner way too much," Tracy said, shaking her head. But before she could chastise her comments, an abrupt scream stopped her.

Though there was plenty of fun-induced cries and shrieks, there was something utterly different about the high-pitched, blood-curdling yell. The paralyzing howl had overtones of pure horror, and though the silenced trio glanced around, none of them could immediately discern where it came from. And around them, people continued about their merry way, enjoying the booths around them as if they hadn't heard anything.

"You heard that too, right?" Rena asked, keeping the alarm in her voice masked.

Tracy nodded, "Yeah."

"I did too. But where—" Jude began, but stopped.

Another scream followed, then a chorus of wails rippled through the crowd, and in a matter of seconds the reason behind the commotion became obvious.

Creatures—humanoid figures with alien features, clawed hands, and crimson eyes—melted into existence, targeted anyone nearby, roughly grabbed them, then simply faded out of existence. Witnesses gave in to rising panic, dashing in multiple directions, while yelling recklessly. But no matter which way they ran, a creature always appeared within arm's reach to easily spirit them away.

"Oh my god! Jude, what's happening?!" Rena cried. Panicked, she stared in disbelief as one of the creatures snaked its slender arms and claws around a middle-aged man, then faded from existence, leaving a hollow echo of the man's shouts for help. Fear and dread knotted her stomach as she whipped around, watching helplessly as more people were taken away much too quickly to even struggle.

Turning around, she sucked in a breath as a creature charged them.

"I don't know! But we're getting inside!" He grabbed his sister's hand, and with Tracy close at his heels, they darted off in the opposite direction, narrowly missing other fleeing townspeople and creatures. He pumped his legs hard, trying not to think about being caught, though with the current situation, escape didn't seem very likely.

Rena gasped, her lungs already about to burst. She let her brother lead the way, since her wobbly legs and spinning head rendered her nearly useless. Her mind kept flashing back to the frightening _things_ that were dragging people off to some hellish demise. And they were next. "Where are we going?" she managed to croak out between heavy breaths.

At first, he really didn't know. He just ran, wanting to put as much distance between them and the horrible scene as possible. But he could hear the creatures behind them, their breath coming in deep hisses as they hunted their prey. Finally emerging from the park, Jude immediately spied a familiar building, and without breaking stride, angled their path towards it.

"The ice cream place! Just hurry!" Jude answered. His adrenaline was keeping him going as his heart hammered against his ribs. But he felt his sister beginning to lag slightly, her breathing much heavier and ragged than his. There was no way in hell he was going to let her fall behind. Or Tracy. Luckily, their friend was in nearly peak running condition, and easily kept up without much effort.

As they sprinted toward what they hoped was safety, the clawed feet of their pursuers clicked against the concrete. More screams rang out behind them, but none of them dared look back for fear of encountering an unforeseen obstacle, which would surely trip one or all of them and cause an untimely fall. And that was something they couldn't afford.

Their legs and arms pumped harder and faster as they neared the entrance of Icy Delight. But the creatures sped up too, determined to pluck their targets out of existence to serve the desires of a higher power.

Jude reached the door first, and thankfully, it was unlocked. He breathed a sigh of relief as he pushed the girls inside then pushed in behind them, slamming the door firmly with his full weight against it. Sweat slid down his face as he braced himself for the impact of the pursuing creatures. But when the pursuing creature threw itself against the door, the force still nearly knocked him to the ground and elicited screams from the girls. He managed to regain his balance and pushed back against the door, keeping the creature at bay.

"Grab something to put against the door! I can't hold it for long!" he commanded, though he intended to keep them safe no matter what it took. If he ran out of strength, he would pull it from somewhere...those things would not hurt Tracy or Rena. Never.

"Jude! Tracy! Rena!" a voice shouted from the back. The outcry was followed by Alyssa Stine and a tall, muscular blond male, who bounded into the main area. While he weaved through the tables to join Jude, adding his weight against the door, she helped the girls push over a rather heavy table and flipped it on its side, making a formidable barricade.

Tracy let out a sigh of relief as the pounding abated. "I think it'll hold for now," she stated for as much of her own comfort as everyone else's. Silence followed, disturbed only by their anxious, short breaths. For quite a few moments, she simply stood there, along with her friends, unsure of what to do. She was positive that if something sounded at the door, they were ready to sprint off in the opposite direction, but now, with everything being calm, the foreboding darkness of the rest of the ice cream parlor was horror in waiting.

Breaking the silence, she said, "Alyssa, I'm usually glad to see you, but this time, you are a godsend! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," the girl nodded. Even in the dark, her pallid face and sad eyes were a stark contrast to her normal, jubilant disposition. She pushed her auburn hair behind her ear, averting her gaze. "But my mother...those things...I couldn't stop them..." tears welled before she finished her reply. The blonde guy next to her laid a consoling hand on her shoulder.

Tracy felt her stomach drop. "Oh my...I'm sorry."

Alyssa wiped away the brimming tears with an awkward swipe of her hand. "What are those things? Where are they taking people? What happens when they disappear? Is my mother de—"

"No," Jude firmly answered. "If they intended on killing people, they could've easily done so on the spot. I don't know what they are, but they've got some kind of plan."

"How do you know?" the blonde male asked, his gray eyes flashing with suspicion.

Jude answered, "It's nothing but a logical deduction." Despite being slightly annoyed by the stranger's underlying tone, he kept his own voice neutral, hoping to avoid am argument on top of everything else happening. "Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the assist earlier. But who are you? I haven't seen you around here before."

The blonde's expression softened a bit. "Oh. You don't remember me? We were in second grade together. Levi Hawthorne. My parents just moved back to the area about a week ago. Seems like the town has definitely changed."

Jude pondered for a second, dwelling on the fleeting memories of that time. He thought back to his circle of friends and suddenly remembered a blonde from back then. Even at that time, Levi was tougher and slightly bigger than them. But he never bullied anyone—actually, he was pretty even-tempered and quiet, unlike most of Jude's other friends at that time.

But a part of him couldn't help but to race through a range of questions, like why was Levi here now? How did he escape? What was his connection to Alyssa? Was he a mutant? He pushed the questions out of his mind, choosing to focus on the situation at hand.

As if knowing Jude's next question, Levi continued, "I heard about the festival and wanted to check this place out. I used to love coming here. Then, all hell broke loose out there. Most of the people in here ran outside to help, including her mother. But when she disappeared along with the others, I helped Alyssa retreat here, and we hid in the back. For some reason, the creatures didn't come in here at all."

"Looks like you picked a great time for a homecoming," Rena said. To her brother, she asked, "What are we supposed to do now?"

Jude shook his head, still reeling from the sudden turn of events. He kept himself from thinking of the other people that had already been stolen from existence, especially his parents and brother. "I don't know. We need to find out if there's anyone left."

"But that means we have to go back out there. Aren't we safer in here? We don't know what happens when you disappear, but I know it's something horrible," Alyssa asked.

Tracy responded. "You may have a point. Those things can appear and disappear at will, but they tried to break down the door to get in here. And considering they haven't appeared in here, my guess is that something is keeping them out."

"I don't understand. What makes this place so special?" Levi asked.

Jude said, "It doesn't matter. Right now, it's the only place keeping us safe from them. Going back out there is too risky right now. I don't like sitting around waiting, but for now, that's all we can do."

Tracy added, "If this is happening all over town, I know my father's out there, trying to figure it out. And I know he's looking for all of us." She slipped her cell phone out of her pocket but frowned after studying the screen. "I'm not getting any service."

"Neither am I. My guess is that something's interfering with the signal."

"So, we're trapped here," Rena said.

"No, we're safe here," Jude corrected. "We'll wait it out here. I don't know if there's anyone out there, but if they are, they'll find us. Until then, let's make sure these barricades hold."

Nodding in agreement, the five teens moved about, repositioning furniture into formidable blockades, hoping that Jude's statement was right—that someone was out there looking for them and would somehow make everything right again.

VI.

Back at the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, untouched by the happenings of Snow Valley, the team was slowly regrouping after an attack from Emplate and a run-in with the Hellions, Emplate's henchmen. They had already swapped detailed recounts of both events, each side listening to the other intently, but upon deciding to stay put, unrest had begun to fester among them.

"Ya know," Jubilation Lee began, absently chewing on a piece of gum, "Jono had like a good point earlier. We're like sittin' here like good little kiddies when tha X-Men are totally fightin' our battles." Her expression matched her displeasured tone, while her chin rested in the palm of her right hand, her elbow resting in a comfortable spot on her leg.

Rich Cale, the only stranger to everyone in the room, except Gaia and Lily, frowned in disapproval. "It's not about being treated like a child. It's about a danger that could get all of you killed or something far worse." He wasn't hiding his impatience by any means, and judging from the return expression, she wasn't too thrilled with him either.

"Ya know what, like curb tha I-know-what's-best attitude," Jubilee snapped. Her patience was already thin with the presence of Graylon Walsh, famed local reporter, who she had serious problems with. Not only that, but she had never been a fan of anyone who discounted her opinion or felt the need to lecture her. And right now, Rich fell into both categories. She continued, "We've been toughin' it out with baddies like Emplate fer a long time. Yeah, our lives have been in danger, but ya know what? We do it because we like choose to. So don't like talk ta me like ya know what's up."

He retorted, "Look, you don't—"

Everett rubbed the back of his neck. "Stop it," he gently said, cutting off Rich's oncoming tirade. "Both of you. This isn't the time to argue. We're all in this together, so we have to combine our experiences and powers to figure this whole thing out. We'll wait for the call from Sean before we make any moves." He glanced at his watch, trying to remember how long it had been since they last heard from him.

Even he was beginning to worry, unsure of what would happen next. If they had been attacked at the school previously, they weren't necessarily on safe grounds. But presently, it was the only rally point that made sense. And without being able to contact the others, remaining in a central, commonly known location seemed extremely logical.

However, he did understand the point both Jono and Jubilee had made—there was something dangerous out there, and instead of facing it head on, they were huddled in the school, as if in hiding. Granted, they were also protecting the younger kids and the butler, but still...they had powers, and so they had a responsibility to face Emplate, no matter how tough he suddenly was. But that line of thinking completely went against the vision Emma Frost and Sean Cassidy had for the school.

Weighing his personal feelings with his responsibility as team leader wasn't easy. But he had to do what was best for the team as a whole, even if that meant staying away from the fighting. But still, it just didn't seem to be right that their friends were still out there, dealing with an enemy they knew all too well.

The sharp vibration of his phone pulled Everett from his thoughts, and he quickly answered, hoping it was Sean with some news. But when the video turned on, he was greeted by an unexpected caller.

"Hey, Everett. It's Kitty."

It was actually the first time he had spoken to the X-Man known as Shadowcat. He had only caught glimpses of her while at the main mansion, and knew of her what little Jubilee included in her "when I was an X-Man" stories. But actually getting the chance to interact with the heroine, who was well-known for being the youngest to join the ranks of the team, Everett found himself pleasantly surprised, especially since she obviously knew who he was.

"Yeah, umm...hey," he awkwardly returned. With her being slightly older than them, it felt awkward to attempt a formal greeting, though she was a member of the parent team, which made her technically an elder of sorts.

Kitty continued as if she didn't notice his hesitation. "I'm having trouble getting in contact with Banshee. And I just talked to Nightcrawler...things aren't looking good at all."

Everett's jaw tightened with worry, his awestruck disposition quickly forgotten. "What's happening?" he inquired as the others began to gravitate closer to hear the answer.

"Strange energy signatures keep popping up all over the city," she explained. "And people keep disappearing at those energy sites. I was able to trace the energy source, and it seems—"

Rich finished, "That someone is teleporting them to another dimension."

"Correct," she replied. "And those strange someones have some similar energy signatures as your old friend, Emplate."

Jubilee said, "But he can't totally be in all those places at like once."

"No, he can't be," Everett agreed. "But an army of Emplates can be." He thought about his own transformation into a slave-copy of Emplate, his mind completely subverted to a primal hunger. The thought of several beings such as that being loose in the city chilled him.

Rich's lips pressed into a thin line. "If there's an army of Emplates, he's no longer bound to Marius. The demon is free." He locked eyes with Rimo, suddenly remembering that his animal companion actually mentioned that Emplate had made a move upon their arrival to the school. Things would only get more complicated and dangerous from here—the two things he was most trying to avoid.

For Everett, the newcomer's words hung in the air, completely changing the way he viewed the current situation. "If that's the case, then we're going to have to figure out what to do next. And without being able to contact anyone else, we're at a disadvantage."

Kitty replied, "I'm tracking Sean and his team, who are in the city already. There's also a small contingent of five survivors in Icy Delight. The army attacked the annual festival, wiping out most of the population."

"Wiped them out?" Vanessa repeated, her eyes wide in disbelief. "I don't understand, what happened to all of the people? What is Emplate planning on doing to them?"

Rich explained, "Emplate is something like a vampire—he gains more energy by draining it from people. If he happens to drain a mutant, the effects are bolstered a hundred-fold. If he kidnapped the townspeople, he's using them as sustenance...it's probably how he has the ability to create his own army."

_"What about th' X-Men?"_ Jono asked.

"Nightcrawler is en route to your school," Kitty answered. "He reported that the mansion collapsed while the other X-Men were still there, but when they searched the rubble, they found no one there. When I analyzed the scene through Cerebro, I noted another energy signature. I really don't know what to make of it, but everything leads me to believe the X-Men who were inside were teleported away. And if what I found is correct, they're in a lot more trouble. Frankly, we all could be in a lot more trouble. I also found traces of the same energy signature with Emplate and his army."

Jubilee frowned. "You're sayin' it's like tha same energy sig, but yer not tellin' us what it really is. Spill it!"

"The initial analysis could be off, but the energy signature I'm finding is a combination of two things. The X-Men were teleported by a stepping disk," Kitty purposefully let the explanation marinate with the students. She presumed that only Jubilee would have caught the reference, but she was surprised when another student, a stern-looking teen, voiced the connection.

"A stepping disk? Such as those from Otherplace?" Rich asked.

"Right again. Looks like one of you has been paying attention in class," she joked in response.

Graylon felt as though he was totally in the dark. "Otherplace? What is that?"

Kitty explained, "Well, most non-magic users refer to it as Limbo. And think of it like a hellish world, complete with demons and an austere landscape. Trust me, it's no vacation spot. Now, the other energy signature I found is a remnant of the same magical energy found in Limbo."

Rich rubbed his chin in thought. "Emplate is using it as his operating grounds, since without a stepping disk, it is impossible to get to, which effectively keeps us from going after him. And the demonic realm is only amplifying his power."

Something Kitty said bothered Jubilee. "Wait. I gotta go back ta tha steppin' disks. Like, tha only person who could totally create those is—"

"I know," Kitty quietly replied. She didn't want to think about the implications of her findings, though it would probably play a significant role in finding and defeating Emplate. Though her stomach knotted at the potential outcome, she vowed to continue her work. "I'm doing some more analysis on my end, but I've already reported the situation to the Professor. In the meantime, Kurt's heading back your way with some of your teammates and the guys who were kidnapped. Cecelia and Tom are heading back to the school ahead of anyone else. We're trying to contact X-Force or X-Factor for additional support."

Jono jumped in. _"Negative. We've got enough folks 'ere t' make a recon team."_ He locked eyes with Everett, hoping that his teammate wouldn't argue with him.

Her expression relayed subtle disagreement with his idea. "The Professor didn't want you to endanger yourselves—"

Surprisingly, Everett said, "Jono's right. We're in a much better position to handle the situation. And you probably know this better than anyone else—we're not delicate kids. We're mutants, heroes in our own right, and if there's a threat out there, we have a responsibility to address it."

"Like wow, Ev, Jubilee grinned. "I didn't know ya like had it in ya!"

On the other side of the screen, Kitty said, "I've been in your shoes, so I understand completely. And I'll let the Professor know. Seriously though, be careful. Don't be reckless. That got me into trouble far more times than anything else. I'll stay linked with you guys through Cerebro. Over and out."

Everett barely ended the call before Rich said, "You're making a mistake."

The definitive statement caught him off-guard, but he slipped his phone back in his pocket. He shook his head, and replied, "I've made a lot of mistakes so far. And I'm going to make plenty more in my lifetime. But I know that every decision I make is for the right reasons. It's dangerous, but there are people out there that are already in danger, who can't protect themselves. We're going out there, whether you think it's the right thing to do or not."

_ "You could learn something from them, Rich."_

"Yeah, right," he sarcastically whispered to Rimo. He hated that his wolf-like companion could not only communicate telepathically with him, but that he had no way of replying the same way.

"Rich," Lily said, breaking her silence. "You're just as interested in defeating Emplate as we are. If there is an army out there, we have to work together. You came here for our help, didn't you?"

"Something like that," he snipped. "Listen, I'm not impressed with any of you, and some of you are treating this like it's some kind of game. I may have come here for your help, but I'm not asking for it. Nor do I want it."

"Hey, hombre. Why don't you take your attitude and shove it up your—"

"Ange..." Everett said with a warning tone.

"He's totally right, Ev. We've been holdin' our tongue fer too long. We're not from some ritzy palace, and we're totally not magicians or whatever yer callin' yerself. But like this isn't the time for the snobby 'tude. We've got one teammate who we put up with jus' because she's kinda badass. You haven't like done anythin' but shown us what a royal pain 'n tha ass ya really are...even worse than Blondie over there, so it totally stops here. Yer either down with us, or ya can hit tha road and fend fer yerself. We're a team here, and when you get that, come talk to us."

Furious, Rich was ready to lash back, but was interrupted by Rimo. _"You may not like what she has to say, but she's got a point. You will be needed here..."_

Rich shot him a dismissive glance and to Jubilee, he said, "I don't have the patience to argue with you. Emplate is a dangerous creature, and my sole mission is to stop him. I thought that you all would provide some kind of assistance in that endeavor, but the people around me had faith in you—I never did."

"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way," Everett said. He didn't really understand why Rich had such a standoffish attitude, but with everything else going on, he really couldn't afford to spend much time trying to figure it out.

Jubilee stood and said. "Ev, tha X-Men are out there. Sean and the JV team are like out there too. We can't wait too much longer. We've got Mr. Belvedere watchin' tha kids, we've got folks comin' back here, an' we can like leave a team of folks here in case somethin' totally heinous goes down."

Nodding in agreement, Everett took charge as the team leader. "We need to regroup. Let's suit up, and head into town. Rich, we'll at least take you back into town, if you want to go your separate way."

"It would be much appreciated."

"Ya should let 'em walk," Jubilee said.

Graylon crossed his arms. "Suit up? So, are you finally letting me join your merry band of thieves? And don't even try to give me the Heisman, considering you still haven't found my uncle."

Everett sighed, wondering how Scott Summers led such a huge team of X-Men, especially when half of them had attitudes similar to Graylon and Rich. "Just come with us. I'm sure there are a few extra uniforms."

A huge smile spread across Graylon's face. "And just call me Exile."

"Ya like get that off the back of a cereal box?" Jubilee shot.

"Yeah. The same one you got Jubilee from. Twerp."

As the group departed, leaving Rich alone with Rimo, the Arcanist sighed, finally feeling the physical effects of his stress. His neck and shoulders were tight, and he could feel fatigue settling in. "This was a terrible idea," he moaned as he rubbed the tense area between his neck and shoulder.

_ "You're being obstinate and difficult. If anything, you're bringing trouble upon yourself."_

"Come on, Rimo. I don't care about Tasha's vision right now or your cryptic guidance to join these clowns. Their recklessness and inexperience will get them killed."

_ "You're discounting them much too easily. What is the real problem?"_

"I just told you—"

_ "This isn't quite like you. Granted, you are stubborn. And you're not exactly easy to get along with. But you're being much more critical of them...they deserve much more credit considering they have faced Emplate multiple times and are still none worse for the wear."_

Rich sighed, falling back into a leather chair. His shoulders sagged, and he rubbed his grainy eyes. "I've never had a situation go this wrong. Cartier was taken right in front of me. Emplate's on the loose. And we have no clue on how to access Otherplace. This team you and Tasha are so enamored with seem to be nothing but distractions. And your obscure counsel isn't exactly thrilling at the moment."

_ "You are well aware that my advice and foresight is limited by powers beyond both of us."_

"I'm painfully aware..."

"Listen, your expertise is critical for this team to succeed. Just as their power is vital to ultimately defeat Emplate. I have already told you that you alone cannot defeat him. The longer you take to realize that, the worse the situation will become."

"So you keep saying," Rich rubbed his eyes, annoyance giving way to fatigue. Everything that had happened to this point was a surprise, nothing having gone according to the way he had planned. And if things were bound to get worse, he couldn't think of anything that hadn't already occurred.

But there was one thing that he, nor Rimo, could foresee, which was his own looming confrontation with Emplate. And the outcome would prove his partner's words in the worst way possible.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional


	40. Emplate's Revenge, Part 8

I.

Amanda Sefton wandered her palace, as she had many times, meticulously studying the winding corridors and darkened passageways. The structure intrigued her because of its ever-changing nature—hallways would disappear or reconfigure themselves to a new destination. Only few places remained constant, her chamber and throne room, which were also dark and foreboding, lending to an entirely frightening domain.

Time had eroded some of the startling designs and décor, comprised of grotesque figures molded into the pillars and walls, rough stone floor, vaulted ceilings, arched doorways, antique furnishings, and shifting shadows. She wasn't exactly comfortable with her living arrangement, sometimes wishing for the cozy comfort of her warm apartment back in the suburbs of New York. But those longings were few and far between, since she had long ago accepted her role as the ruler of Otherplace, also known to most as Limbo.

Like most demonic realms, it was plagued with constant war and suffering, caused by factions of demons waging battle with others for supremacy in an unforgiving world that would ultimately leave neither in power for very long without another fight ensuing. It was an endless cycle of fighting, domination, and subversion, welcomed by the citizens of this realm. The fighting, though fierce and often, was controlled chaos, shepherded by the ruler of Otherplace, who would intervene only if in the interest of a reasonable semblance of order.

But most times, she simply monitored the conflicts by remote viewing through magical means or by scouts who would report the results back to her. Through these methods, she came to have a thorough understanding of the warring clans and their intent. Some were simply warmongers and sought to inflict pain and suffering on others, while others destined themselves to ultimately attempt an uprising against the Sorcerer Supreme, Amanda herself.

There were many who tried, but none who succeeded, as her army of demons were slavishly loyal and equally vicious, completely decimating any who dared challenge her authority and rule. For this, she was thankful, though demons could never be fully trusted, so she maintained a continual watchful eye on those around her.

She wandered down an unfamiliar path, musty and speckled with dense cobwebs, and surprisingly ended up back in her throne room. A massive chamber, it reflected the overall design of the rest of the palace, but seemed more comfortable and familiar to her.

_"I'm never going to get used to this," _she said to herself. Though she had been ruler for quite some time, Amanda never really fully embraced her role. If anything, she did it out of necessity because there was no one else to stand between the demons of Otherplace and the Earth realm. She accepted the responsibility without outward reservation, but the separation from her old Excalibur and X-Men teammates bothered her.

It wasn't that long ago that she fought alongside her X-Men brethren as Daytripper, the team's resident sorceress. Her skills were invaluable, and though her relationship with Kurt Wagner was strained at times, she would much rather have been with him than alone in Otherplace.

As she approached her throne, she felt a shift in the air, the familiar notion of a stepping disk being opened close to her. Though facing away, the corner of her mouth curled into a smile, in anticipation of the individuals who would appear from the portal and of things to come due to their timely arrival.

Without turning around, she greeted her guests. "Though it has been a long time, I cannot welcome you with friendly arms, as your reason for being brought here is two-fold." She spun around, her tussled blond locks swaying in response, her blue eyes narrowing with a serious glare. "But first, I would like to hear of your venture to this point, for I fear the ramifications run deep."

She recognized her guests almost instantly—a splinter team of X-Men. Though they were missing a few from their roster, Amanda noted the heavy hitters on this team—Cyclops, Phoenix, Colossus, Wolverine, Bishop, and Emma Frost. They also had two unconscious males with them, two members she couldn't immediately identify, though there was a strong aura of magic about them.

"Good ta see you too, darlin'," James Howlett, mostly known as Logan or Wolverine, responded.

Scott Summers replied, "It's complicated, as always. But ultimately, we confronted a mutant named Emplate, and there were things we didn't quite know about him to this point. He separated himself from Marius St. Croix through magical means, and the Ambassador tried to stop him with a spell of his own. It didn't work. And now we're here of all places."

Otherplace, often referenced as Limbo by some mystics, was a place that the X-Men did not have fond memories of. Not only was the younger sister of Peter Rasputin kidnapped and held prisoner there for years, it housed several variants of demonic entities with malevolent intent. On many occasions the X-Men faced those beings, managing to edge out a win despite their hungry, vicious nature. Being back in the realm put all of them, including Scott, on edge.

Only moments ago, they were battling Emplate and his self-proclaimed Hellions within an abandoned mansion close to the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. Experience and precision gave the X-Men the upper hand until Emplate managed to separate from his host, Marius St. Croix. The situation turned for the worst, ultimately placing the X-Men into an alternate realm.

Amanda explained, "The manifestation of such powerful energy would not have escaped my attention. I have been monitoring the situation. The demon you speak of has created a domain within this realm, using it to further his scheme."

Emma took an aggressive step forward, her anger seething. "You claim to be so omniscient, but you dawdled around on your throne in this hellhole, instead of using your God-forsaken powers for something other than pacifying the demon populace. I may not necessarily agree with the X-Men's constant nosy antics, but at least they don't allow potential harm to come to people, especially teenagers and anyone else that may be helpless."

Almost immediately, Amanda stood just slightly taller, the aura around her changing the entire mood of the room. "First, it is not your place to address me so commonly, woman. You may be the White Queen of the Hellfire Club, but right now, you are nothing more than bait for the most vicious demons of Limbo who would love to do nothing more than tear you apart piece by frosted piece. Second, as a general rule, it is not my way to meddle in matters outside of Otherplace. Things are tumultuous enough between our two realms, the boundaries delicate enough without forcing them any closer to destruction. The less interloping, the better. But not all here share that perspective," she definitively stated.

"Hey, Cyke," Logan half-whispered, "Ya may wanna add Queenie here to the welcoming party. Her charmin' personality really sets the mood."

"Grow up," she snipped. She thought about replying to Amanda, but a side glance from Scott's visor told her it wasn't a good idea. Though she still had some fierce words for the sorceress, Emma heeded the unspoken order, saving her words for later. Cocking a challenging eyebrow, she crossed her arms, settling into a disapproving scowl.

Trying to soften the mood, Jean said, "Amanda, we've known each other for years, it's not like you to just let something like this go without taking some kind of action. I disagree with her delivery, but I agree with the overall message—Emplate is a dangerous enemy. If you knew something, why didn't you at least warn us? Or Kurt?" At the mention of her ex-lover's name, Jean felt a slight shift, but it was fleeting.

"I have no strict loyalty to anyone. My responsibility is different now—I'm not an X-Man. I'm the ruler of an entire realm. There are ramifications for my actions that are far-reaching...this is the burden those that practice sorcery must bear. Kurt and I haven't spoken since our last encounter, and I thought it better that way. Besides, this place brings nothing but trouble to your world," Amanda stoically explained.

She hoped that the X-Men of all people would understand her plight, considering what they already knew of Otherplace and its previous ruler. At the same time, they had questions and a mission. That was their driving factor, and right now, they saw her as an integral part of that mission, no matter the extended consequences. And honestly, if she were in their shoes, she wouldn't have acted any differently.

"Despite my stance," she clarified, revealing a bit of fatigue in her voice. "I understand what's happening, and I shall assist where needed. But there is something I must reveal to you. As I said earlier, it was not me that saved you."

Peter frowned in response, his expression clearly denying any other explanation but the obvious. "I do not understand. The stepping disk brought us here...that was your doing, no?"

"The stepping disks have never been mine to control."

The simple explanation caught Scott off-guard, and as he glanced at his teammates, they seemed uneasy as well. They all knew the history of Limbo and Peter's sister, Illyana, whose mutant ability allowed her to control the stepping disks. It was common for similar powers to manifest within various people, but there were some powers that seemed to be unique and reserved for a single person. With that in mind, Scott asked, "Then...who...?"

"I saved you," a female stepped from around the corner, her quick stride complimenting her strong, lightly Russian-accented voice. Her outfit suited her body well, outlining a supple, yet athletic body. It was comprised of a black, full body suit, accented with thin, armor-like gloves, boots, belt, and other accessories, providing a slightly asymmetrical fashion. Though wearing a matching cloak with the hood drawn, strands of blond locks were caught by an unseen breeze against her fair face.

_ "Jean, is that—"_ Scott telepathically asked, using the psychic rapport he shared with her. But he trailed off, feeling that even thinking her name would drudge up old, forgotten memories. And for the sake of Peter, he didn't want to put him through any of that again.

His wife concentrated briefly—a mere narrowing of her eyes signified the use of her formidable telepathic abilities—before responding. _"I don't know. She has some of the strongest mental barriers I've seen for a non-psi. I can't read her at all."_ She knew why he was so worried, and she could tell that the others were surprised and a bit shaken by the young woman's appearance. And the problem was that there was nothing to disprove their presumption.

Accompanied by two other figures, one male and the other female, the mysterious girl's attention wasn't immediately on the X-Men as she reported to Amanda, "The situation is getting worse. He's gathering enough power to create an entire army of Emplate soldiers. Damien and Mina were of great help, but they are getting stronger." Her purposeful stride came to a halt near Amanda and the others, and her companions stayed by her side, quietly studying the X-Men.

Amanda transitioned into pensive strategizing. "Then our time is limited," she replied. She turned from the young woman back to the X-Men. "We must make haste for—"

Emma interjected in, curiously studying the hooded female cohort of Amanda. Ignoring the other two, she questioned her curiously, "I'm sorry, but haven't we met before?"

The young woman shifted her weight slightly, her body language belaying annoyance at the question. "Yes, we've met, Ms. Frost, but under much different circumstances back then."

Emma was surprised by the ease of the response. She expected to catch the girl off-guard with such a direct question. But it didn't seem as though she had anything to hide, which caused more concern for the White Queen. In her experience, those who tended to be an open book were usually the ones with the most dangerous secrets. And she didn't wholly trust anyone she couldn't read, which was yet another oddity about the girl.

_"What are you thinking, Jean?"_ she telepathically asked.

She didn't immediately answer, catching a glimpse of the girl's face. Instead, she instinctively turned to Peter, and they locked eyes, her emerald green eyes flashing with the confirmation he needed—she didn't have to say a word. Subsequently, she averted her eyes away from him to Emma, where an affirmative nod from her signified a positive identification of the young woman.

At last, Jean responded telepathically, _"I think we're dealing with another complicated situation..."_

_"Well, you're no stranger to untimely and inexplicable resurrections, so this isn't really a surprise, is it?"_

Jean couldn't tell if Emma was being her usual catty self, but before she even had the chance to debate the point, Peter Rasputin, who had been noticeably quiet to this point, stepped forward.

"Illyana," he tested, waiting for her to react to her name. When she turned his way, he asked, "Is that really you?"

The girl's posture softened, and after an unreadable glance to Amanda, she answered, "Yes."

It was another moment of silence, the revelation penetrating each individual in the room a different way.

For the majority of the X-Men, they were either personally present or at least knew of Illyana's ill-fated teenaged years after being trapped in Otherworld by Belasco, a demon-like, mutant sorcerer. She not only sacrificed herself to save the world from a demonic invasion, but when she reverted back to her normal age, the Legacy Virus ravaged her, ultimately succumbing to the deadly disease. However, here she was, standing before them confidently, radiating a power that rivaled her previous incarnation.

For Peter, it was confirmation of what he already knew—his sister was still alive. Since her official death, he had several occasions where he would see her in dreams or visions, and she would always allude to being not quite gone. But she never definitely indicated her situation. She didn't need to—he was content knowing that his sister's essence was still out there, supporting and watching over him.

Amanda knew that this day would come eventually—the reuniting of Illyana and the X-Men. Emplate's sudden appearance and connection to them only expedited the inevitable. However, she wasn't in the position to answer the questions they would pose.

Illyana pulled her hood down, exposing her face for all to see, thus taking the mystery out of it. She explained, "My death was not my end, only another beginning. My soul is bound to this realm, so though my physical body ceased to exist, I lived on. I have aided Amanda with her role as ruler, unbeknownst to most, as to ensure this place does not fall into the hands of another like Belasco."

"I never believed you were dead, Snowflake," Peter whispered, his normally crisp, Russian accent laden with emotion.

She smiled in return. "I know. And I hoped that one day, I would be able to return to you, Kitty, and everyone else. But that is something that must wait...my time has not arrived."

Scott's lips pursed into a scolding frown. "Amanda, you knew and elected not to inform us?"

"As she said, her existence is complicated. If I had—"

He shook his head. "You don't have to explain anymore—now isn't the time to get into this. We have to deal with Emplate. He's dangerous, and if he's created his own army, there isn't much time. We'll discuss the rest later."

Bishop nodded in agreement. "Agreed. In my timeline, countless Emplates roamed in packs, making easy prey of anyone they came across, human or mutant. If this is where it begins, we have to end it."

"No words have been truer," Amanda stated. She could tell that Scott was upset—rightfully so. She hadn't much direct interaction with the leader of the X-Men, but his firm jaw and stoic demeanor belayed a no-nonsense attitude and open communication amongst his team. Something of this magnitude should have been brought to their attention immediately, and presumably, she thought that is what he would have wanted. However, she had failed miserably, only adding more complication to a delicate situation.

But the person she couldn't bear to look at was Peter. She purposefully avoided making any sort of eye contact. If anyone deserved to know that Illyana was still alive, it was him. But she held true to her perspective of non-interference. Revealing the situation would have only jeopardized the realms' separate existences and created an untimely drama. In retrospect, just as she should have informed Scott, Peter should have been the first or second to know of Illyana's fate.

"Here's what we know so far," Bishop explained, "Emplate has managed to separate himself from his host, Marius St. Croix. He has a team of mutants as bodyguards, and he's also created his own personal army of Emplate slaves. We need to figure out where he is and what his plan is."

"If there's anything about these rather dense, arch-nemesis types," Emma stated, "they all seem to have world domination somehow engrained in their pea-sized brains. Emplate has been no different. But the rationale behind his behavior isn't really our problem."

Though Amanda already decided that she didn't like the villainess-turned-heroic teacher, she couldn't argue with the logic. "This is a fair statement. We have managed to track his whereabouts to a structure within an untouched expanse of Otherplace. It seemed to appear overnight, but as you well know, temporal rifts create pockets of time that progresses at a different rate than the rest. Illyana, Damien, and Mina have been acting as scouts, but the Emplate breedlings have been on strict guard. It is there that he deploys his army, and there is where we've detected the presence of individuals not of this realm. Hundreds."

"Hundreds of people?" Jean questioned. Already suspecting the worst, she asked to her own teammates, "Do you think he attacked the town?"

"No doubt about it," Scott answered. "He's moving fast. We need to move faster. The kids aren't safe...Illyana, can you bring them here?"

Emma rolled her eyes, exhaling impatiently. "You're usually full of grand ideas that can save the world ten times over. But for the life of me, I can't figure how you would be so idiotic to even think about bringing my students to this dangerous hellhole. Offense intended."

"Alright, darlin'," Logan stepped in. He locked eyes with Emma, matching her glare. "I've been tryin' ta stay quiet fer the sake of the team here. But yer attitude is really gratin' on my nerves."

"You're one to talk," she snidely retorted.

Scott said, "Agreeing with Logan is unusual for me. But he's right—the attitude isn't helping. If his army has already attacked the city, they'll continue the attacks in surrounding areas. At least within Amanda's castle, they'll be somewhat protected. Out there, we can't guarantee anything. They're tough, but we're dealing with something that won't hesitate to kill."

Emma's jaw tensed. To her, either place put her students in jeopardy, which was the one thing she wasn't willing to do. She promised to keep them safe, but as the situation grew, it was becoming harder.

Jean glanced at the unconscious father and son, who showed no signs of regaining awareness. To Amanda, she questioned, "What about Cartier? Can you do something about him? He used some kind of spell—"

"He has jeopardized his soul," she definitively replied, studying the unconscious Ambassador. "My intervention would only damn him."

Turning to her husband, Jean laid out a viable plan. "Then we have to get Cartier and Marius back to the med bay. Maybe Cecelia or Hank can figure out something."

"Agreed. We're splitting up. Bishop, Peter, Illyana, and Emma, take Cartier and Marius back to the school. Find the kids and survivors. As much as I don't want them in danger, if Emplate's army is in the hundreds, we're going to need your students' help."

"We'll see..." said Emma, taking her place next to Illyana. It wasn't that long ago that she renounced the idea of her students being primed as junior X-Men. She wanted to teach them how to function and prosper with the added complication of being a mutant. She gave them what she didn't have—an understanding environment conducive to education and maturation. But no matter how hard she tried, the students kept being dragged into life-or-death situations against her intent and against their will.

Bishop and Peter joined them, each cradling a St. Croix. They steadied themselves for a jolt as the circle of light appeared underneath, and under its commander's influence, enveloped the splinter team, whisking them back to Snow Valley, and leaving the X-Men and Amanda to develop a plan to defeat a seemingly invincible menace.

II.

Levi Hawthorne didn't really want to move back to Snow Valley. He had enjoyed the time there during his younger years, but he was used to the big city life of New York. Being in a place full of international diversity and social events was every teenager's dream, and he lived it daily. But with his father's change in work, which was a complete secret from the family, it forced them to relocate back to Snow Valley. He would have much rather continued living up north, even if that meant separating from his parents. But they weren't keen on the idea, so there he was, back in Snow Valley, currently a victim of circumstances way beyond his control.

The evening had started out just fine, but suddenly, chaos broke out as monsters appeared, abducting anyone they could get their hands on. Luckily for him, he was inside the rather popular, locally-owned ice cream parlor when the turmoil began, but it was even more horrifying to watch people, who he had only begun to know, simply vanish, including Olivia Stine, the owner of Icy Delight. Only moments after the terror ensued, Levi and Alyssa, Olivia's daughter, were joined by three other teens who had barely escaped the clutches of the creatures.

After barricading the door, they all took various positions near the center of the main booths and tables. They had been sitting in silence for a while, listening for their lurking pursuers, but they hadn't heard anything for quite some time. Breaking the uneasy silence, Levi scuffed his sneakers on the linoleum floor and caught the gaze of Jude.

Levi commented, "You guys don't seem too worried about all of this."

His childhood friend explained, "About thirty minutes north of town is a school—a school for mutants. And if you're around this town for longer than five minutes, you'll find that dangerous mutants decide to target this place for one reason or another." He sighed, shaking his head as if remembering something terrible. "Some people argue that good mutants attract bad mutants, and we're just the unlucky ones caught in the middle. Others say that all mutants are bad and are secretly planning to destroy normal humans so they can take over the world."

Levi was seemingly unfazed by the revelation Jude shared. He asked, "What do you think?"

Jude shrugged, noting the blonde's lack of surprise. "The former is definitely true—the bad guys come here looking for trouble, and lucky for us, we have some of the good guys right here on our doorstep. I do think that sometimes, the bad mutants are after them, and we just end up being collateral damage. But still, those students up there want to protect us. They do everything in their power to keep us safe, which I can appreciate."

"They can't keep all of us safe," Rena bitterly interjected. Her lips were pressed into a tight line, and her gaze was dark. "Look what's happened to the town. And I haven't even thought about people who weren't at the festival. What about Mom and Dad? Connor? Amy? What if the creatures got them too?"

Calmly, Tracy responded, hoping to sooth her ire. "We just can't think about that right now."

"What else are we supposed to think about?" she quickly retorted, her voice escalating slightly. "We're stuck in this place with no way out. And there's no telling who's out there. We could be the only people left."

Jude shook his head, calmly replying to his sister, "I refuse to believe that. The good guys are out there fighting...I'll keep that hope even if no one else will." He gave his sister's shoulder a tight squeeze. Though he understood exactly how she felt, and he was worried sick about their parents and brother, he knew that he had to be strong and reassuring for his younger sister.

He turned his attention back to the new addition to their ad hoc team. "What about you, Levi? For being new to all this, you seem pretty calm too."

He shrugged. "Not really. We moved back here from New York, which seems to be the superhero and supervillain hub of the country. Stuff like this happened all the time. I'm worried about my parents too, but we can't really do anything in here. And there's too much we don't know. I'd rather just focus on keeping ourselves safe until the good guys show up."

"Well, they have a tendency to show up at just the right time," Tracy said with a smile. She appreciated the lighter mood, despite the dire situation they were in. Not only were they trapped, but they were isolated and presumably the only people left in Snow Valley. She hoped that her father was out there somewhere too—that the monsters hadn't captured him too. But as time ticked on, that idea seemed like a fading dream.

Just as she was about to comment on Levi's last statement, a shuffling noise emerged from the darkened hallway leading to the back of the building. The clamor silenced into a foreboding lull, leaving the teens on edge.

Rena rose slowly, prompting the others to stand. Startled, she said, "Please tell me that was the good guys you were talking about."

"Alyssa, is there a back door to this place?" Jude asked, his voice no more than a whisper as he strained to hear another noise.

She nodded, fear etched into her face. "O—of course there is...I—I locked it." Naturally, she huddled in close to Levi, grasping his arm for security. But her gentle hold clamped down as something inhuman stepped from the hallway into the room. In all of the panic, she didn't get a clear look at the creatures that spirited her mother away. But now, she could clearly make out the monstrous visage of their pursuers.

The Emplate monster narrowed its angular eyes at its prey, as its teeth gnashed together hungrily. Behind it, two identical figures stepped into the room, both equally frightening and wild. More shuffling came from the dark hallway, as more creatures entered the building.

Instinctively, Jude stepped in front of Tracy and Rena, while Levi positioned himself between the intruders and Alyssa. Now locked in a standoff, the teens held their breath, waiting for the vicious attack that was bound to come next.

III.

Cecelia Reyes couldn't remember a time she didn't want to be a doctor. Since the young age of four, when tragedy struck her family, she decided to be a medical professional, performing surgery and examinations on her collection of stuffed animals. All her life, she sought to be the best because that's what it took for acceptance into medical school. Establishing a rivalry with her older brother, she studied hard and earned the highest grades possible throughout school, college, and then medical school.

She would be the first to tell anyone that being a trauma surgeon wasn't easy nor was it pretty. But the difficulty, challenges, and surprises made it all worthwhile, especially when her skills gave someone a second chance at life. Her childhood dream fulfilled, she lived happily until an unfortunate run-in with a Prime Sentinel turned her world upside down.

Until that point, Cecelia held a secret—she was a mutant with the ability to generate a bioplasmic force field mere inches from her body. Only subconsciously generated when she was physically attacked, it was rare that she even used her ability, which made it easier to hide. But when she was viciously attacked by the undercover operative, her power kicked in, which saved her life, but immediately alienated her from coworkers she had known for years. During the commotion, bystanders were injured as well, and only due to the timely intervention of Iceman was she able to escape, subsequently leaving her entire life behind as well.

Teaming with Bobby Drake and Marrow, a Morlock hell-bent on revenge and malicious goading, she reluctantly battled their way back to the Xavier School for Higher Learning, where her skills were put to the test with the returning team. After removing an implanted bomb from Scott Summer's abdomen, she received an honorary status with the team. Jobless and displaced, she accepted the offer, but never desired to participate on the field team. She worked on the staff alongside Hank McCoy and found herself slowly accepting her new life.

When Charles Xavier offered her the head medical staff position at the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, she willingly accepted, glad for the chance to work with teenagers and young adults. So far, she enjoyed her tenure, but it surprised her how often the students and faculty found themselves at the mercy of some enemy's machinations. And today was no different.

She and Tom Corsi, a fellow staff member, expeditiously traveled back to the school after an attack from a nefarious creature calling himself Emplate. Upon arrival, they were back-briefed by Everett Thomas with interjections from a combination of students. After examining them all, to include a rather standoffish add-on and a local student reporter, she prepped the med bay in case anything else happened. Just as she set up the last monitoring devices, a crackle of energy sounded behind her, and a circle of light appeared, rising to reveal both familiar and unfamiliar faces.

"Ay Dios! You scared the hell out of me!" she said to Emma. But as her eyes fell on the cradled gentlemen, her surprise vanished, replaced with the focus of a medical professional. "Tell me what happened to them, STAT. Peter, take your guy to that bed. Bishop, here. Hook them up quickly, while I run vitals."

Her urgent commands were heeded promptly by the two X-Men, having dealt with plenty of medical emergencies before. As they worked, Cecelia produced a wireless tablet device that served as a master controller for the medical equipment. It also had functions of its own and a medical database for quick-reference research. Her fingers moved fluidly as she typed on a virtual keyboard and tapped the touch screen.

Bishop explained as he gently laid Cartier on the bed, "They were rendered unconscious probably thirty minutes ago, but didn't suffer any outside trauma or injury."

"Their vitals—it's almost like they're in a coma," Cecelia revealed, frowning at the glowing readout from the tablet. She glanced up only momentarily before typing something else in the device.

Illyana spoke up for the first time since arriving. "They're unconscious as a result of magic. Medicine will not do anything for them."

Without looking up, the doctor responded tersely, "Magic or not, sister, I'm taking care of them. Somebody besides her tell me what we're dealing with."

Emma took the lead to explain the circumstance. "This is Marius St. Croix, previously one-half of our dear friend, Emplate. It isn't entirely clear yet, but it seems that some kind of powerful spell may have separated them, and when they split, the young man was unconscious. His father, Cartier St. Croix, is the other near corpse. I have no sympathy for him, because whatever he did, he did it to himself, almost taking out all of us in the process. As much as I hate to admit this—if not for Jean's deus ex machina intervention, we'd probably all be your next round of patients."

Cecelia nodded, tapping a few more times on the tablet. "That's consistent with their readings then. Marius is showing a dangerous deficiency in nutrients—basically, his body is starved and shut down because of it. I'll start an IV cocktail for him. It will take time, but he should recover. The other one, there's minimal brain activity...just enough to keep him breathing and his heart beating. I'll monitor him closely, but right now, I'm not sure what to do about him."

Illyana crossed her arms, annoyance flashing across her blue eyes. "As I said before, doctor, there is nothing you can do. A strong psychic may be able enter the Astral Plane to guide him back. But this is risky...he has forfeited his essence for power. It could be dangerous."

A smile crossed Emma's lips as a she calculated a plan of action. "Bishop, I'll remain here and see what I can do about Cartier. Take the teleporter and get Sean and the rest of my students back here. Peter, I'll need you here for the extra strength in the event this new Emplate is as senseless as before and attacks the school again. I have no qualms about you smashing him into a pulp."

Peter nodded, turning to his sister. She looked exactly as he remembered her as a teenager—long, blond hair and bangs framing a fair face; icy blue eyes that sparkled in the sun, but held something ancient deep within them; a bright smile that hid the horrors she endured within Otherworld. It pained him to think about all his sister had endured, but he had learned that she was a strong young woman, much like their mother. He wished that their reunion didn't have to be short-lived. There were plenty of things he wanted to ask and share with her, but he also understood the dire situation they were in. Pushing his personal feelings to aside, he simply gave her a knowing nod.

The twinkle in her eye was enough to let him know that she was overjoyed to see him, but also knew that their reunion would have to wait. "Brother, it is good to see you. But we have our roles to play for now."

"Yes, you are right, Snowflake."

"But tell me—the landscape of the school seems to have changed," her lightly accented voice reduced to a mere whisper. "I do not recall the X-Men being so short-tempered. Or rude."

Peter was surprised by his own hearty laugh. "Trust me, she's actually one of the nice ones. And the doctor...they say that is normal for New Yorkers."

Bishop gave Illyana a nod, signaling he was ready, and hoisted his guns. "Chances are, we're going to have to fight through these Emplate creatures. Cerebro picked up several still within the city limits."

Illyana smiled darkly. "My Soulsword will make short work of these lower-level wraiths. Do not worry for me, future warrior." With one last nod to her brother, she mentally conjured a stepping disk, and a circle of light appeared underneath their feet, rising, until it completely enveloped them. With a final flash, it vanished, leaving the other two women with the patients.

"She'll be fine, Peter. She always has been," Emma said, having picked up on the X-Man's trepidation. She held up a hand halting his response. "Just be ready in the event something happens while I'm away."

She stepped behind the bed where Cartier laid, then placed her hands on his temples. "Alright, let's see where you condemned yourself to, Ambassador," she said aloud but to no one. With a deep breath, Emma's body relaxed as her mind connected to Cartier's. Anchoring herself psychically, she began the venture into the dark labyrinth that now was his mind.

IV.

Kurt Wagner ended the voice and video call with Kitty Pryde. Though he felt a slight bit of relief, knowing that the X-Men had survived the collapsed mansion episode, it unnerved him that somehow, Otherplace may be somehow involved, which also meant that Amanda Sefton, his foster sister and ex-lover, was intertwined in the situation as well.

It had been a few months since they had spoken and their parting words ended their relationship. Separated by dimensional barriers, it took specific effort to rekindle conversation, and truthfully, Kurt just hadn't made the effort. But she could have easily made contact with him, so he thought. She too opted to cease communication, and he had to remind himself of that fact every so often.

He glanced at his temporary co-pilot, Monet St. Croix, who had probably suffered the most since this whole ordeal began. Previously, she had to deal with the fact that one of their most dangerous enemies was actually her brother. Since joining the team, her whole family has been in jeopardy at one point or another, along with the rest of the students. Despite this, the young woman, beautiful by anyone's standards, kept her eyes focused on the sky ahead, only making adjustments to the controls every now and again.

"Monet, is Dad going to be okay?" Nicole asked from the back. Claudette, her twin, sat next to her, silent, but peered at their elder sister expectantly, as if consciously aware and awaiting a reply.

Her jaw tensed, but she kindly responded, "Of course. He is with the X-Men, and he is our father." She wondered if her reassuring words were for her sisters or if she was saying them more for her own benefit. Monet shifted her brown eyes slightly to get a glimpse of Kurt watching her before snapping them back to the front. Without much emotion, she quietly said, "Do not ask me how I am feeling. I do not make it a habit of lying to my elders, but this day will prove to be different."

"Vere you reading my mind?"

"I didn't have to. It's in your eyes."

Impressed with the young woman's perceptiveness, he said, "This trial vill pass, and things vill work out as _He_ intends."

Monet thought about commenting but instead stayed focused on the darkening sky, which matched her mood. How was an ambiguous prophesy supposed to make her feel better? It had the completely opposite effect, it only angered her more. If this _He_ allowed her brother to be taken and her mother to be killed, what kind of an entity was _He_?

_What am I thinking?_ she thought to herself, rubbing the back of her neck. Fatigue and irritation had settled in, which was obviously causing her cynical thoughts. She wasn't devoutly religious, but she had been taught about religion and knew to respect it, whether she agreed with circumstances or not. She was wavering and doubtful, two things that she prided herself on never being, but everything was obviously weighing on her heavily.

"Ve may not always understand the larger plan, but zere is a reason both good things and bad things happen. Remember to stay strong in vhatever you may believe, and most of all, know that you vill make it through."

Her first thought was that the parent X-Man was giving her a pep talk, and she almost dismissed his words as such. But then, for the first time, the sincere words struck her heart, and a feeling of tranquility passed over her. She felt rejuvenated, her apprehension completely eradicated.

There was a pause, then Monet said, "Thank you."

Kurt smiled, knowing that his words were well-received. But before too long, a call from the back stole his attention.

"Ummm...excuse me, uh—Mr. Duskcreeper...?" Jason Tate hesitantly said from his seat in the far back.

With a bland expression, Rico corrected, "Nightcrawler."

"Yeah, what he said. Anyways, where are we going? It's not that I don't trust you, even though you kind of look like a demon, but we were kidnapped not too long ago. I kind of have this nagging suspicion about going to unknown places with people I don't know."

With the patience he was well known for, Kurt responded, "Ve are heading back to the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. It is not too much farther."

"In case you forgot," Ty reminded, "he saved us from Emplate. And the collapsing mansion."

Jason frowned, displeased with the lack of understanding from the others. "Look, I'm helpless in the air like this...my powers don't work unless I'm in contact with the ground. And I really don't know any of you. So, I'm naturally a little leery of my surroundings. Besides, everyone here isn't exactly fitting into a discrete category with me."

"Alright. That's fair," Rico agreed with a smile. "Here's the deal. The impossibly gorgeous girl in the front and the oddly identical, mini versions of her, also known as the Wonder Twins, back there are good guys. The timid, hard-skinned girl in the very back is Yvette, an awesome good guy, as you saw earlier. Nightcrawler is a long-time X-Man—definitely a good guy. Once you get past the rough exterior, Vinnie is a good guy. Me? Well, I'm a good guy too, potentially a future X-Man. Riptide over there, total bad guy."

Craig crossed his arms with a scowl. "Whatever, d-bag."

"Don't give him shit," Vincent broke in. "You're the ones that kidnapped Dr. Cain. You're lucky we're thousands of feet in the air, otherwise, I'd burn you bit by bit until you tell me where the hell he is."

"You always talked big. We'll see how tough you are when I—"

"Zat is enough," Kurt's voice was calm, but forceful. "Zere is no need for harsh vords or negativity. Ve are in ze position vere those things do not matter. Ve must vork together."

Still focused on her job as co-pilot, Monet announced, "We're two point five minutes from the school. Landing gear engaged, silent approach mode activated."

The campus for the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters appeared on the screen, then the windshield. He scanned the ground for a clearing—the wide expanse of the front yard seemed like a viable option. With the skill of an experienced pilot, he eased back on the throttle, then executed one of his best landings to date. He switched off the engine as Monet powered down the auxiliary devices. Opening the release hatch, he announced, "Ve have arrived."

The students filed out, and he brought up the rear. As he exited, Tom Corsi unexpectedly greeted him at the front door. "Tom, it is good to see you, though I vish it were under better circumstances."

"Same here."

"Any vord from the X-Men?"

Tom regretfully shook his head. "Apparently, they stayed in Limbo. Emplate's made it his base of operations. They're working with Amanda to figure out a plan of attack."

"Vhat about ze others?"

"Everett's pulling together a team to head into the city. We haven't heard from Sean at all. Emma's locked in the med bay with the St. Croixs, Cecelia, and Peter. The butler is taking care of the kids—they're locked down in the Danger Room."

"Ve should keep the students here. I trust Sean vill make it back—if we spread ourselves too thin, ve vill be vulnerable."

"Agreed. I've asked all of them to suit up. There's no telling what's going to happen from here on out. We'll keep everyone here until we're able to regroup. At that point, we'll figure something out."

Kurt nodded, and followed Tom into the school, his own pensiveness evidently present. So much had happened in such a short period of time, and now, the situation seemed to be spiraling into an epic saga. And in his experiences in those situations, nothing ever turned out positive in the end.

V.

For the second time that day, Mason Arminthorpe strode into the massive control room for the Corporation. He only briefly noticed the frigid temperature and dryness of the area, which maintained a suitable environment for the computers but wasn't exactly ideal for a employee workplace. However, at the core of the computing supercenter was Casey Chamberlain, a teenaged genius who served as a technical guru for the advanced systems housed there, and more times than not, Mason found him within the control room, constantly improving and streamlining the complex equipment.

Stopping behind the high-backed leather chair, Mason peered over the young man's shoulder. "Have you been able to ascertain the current situation involving the Xavier school?" Casey shook his head, his eyes dancing among the plaster of screens in front of him. "Not at all. There's too much interference. After the emergence of this Emplate thing, I lost all monitoring capability of the site. The foreign energy is disrupting all electronic communications and monitoring. But that's the least of our concerns."

He typed a command, changing the separate monitors into one giant screen, showing the layout of their compound. "Though I couldn't monitor the situation directly, I've been keeping track of the entire area and the effects of this anomaly. The main source of the energy disruption isn't at the previous coordinates though. Strangely, the system detected a multitude of teleportation energy signatures on the site, which later manifested a thousand-fold in the town, and they were all similar to Emplate. From what I can tell, everyone's been teleported away. But I don't have a firm lock on where they were teleported to."

Mason watched as countless body signatures converged on the outer fence.

Casey continued to explain, "All of those things have the same energy signature as Emplate. It seems like, somehow, he created duplicates of himself to create an army. And chances are, he's after any living being within his grasp."

Mason didn't expect the situation to escalate this far. "Interesting. Have you alerted my sons?"

"Lucas and Trent are gathering everyone and will execute protective countermeasures. I've also sent an alert to all the employees, and they are evacuating to the underground floors. But we can't locate Mina Laroché."

"There is sorcery intermingled in this situation. Her skills are being employed elsewhere—she is needed much more by her sorcerer peers than us right now." Mason smirked as the surrounding body signatures drew closer to the fence-line. "It seems that we have been drawn into the fray. Let's see what challenge these creatures provide against far superior mutants."

"Do you think Craig is okay?"

"I have confidence in the Xavier mutants, which now include members previously from our own ranks. They are resilient and strong, and Craig is among them. I have no doubt he is fine."

"But they are our enemies, right?"

"You mustn't think of everything so black and white, Casey. Our relationship with them is complicated, agitated by my desire to have Niles Cain and the next generation of mutants back where they belong. We may be enemies to them, but I don't see them the same."

Casey thought about asking more questions, but then decided against it. But for their sake, he hoped that his boss was right, and the Xavier kids would somehow figure all of this out and return the city to normal. Preparing himself, he slipped out of the chair and followed Mason Arminthorpe into the fray.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional


	41. Emplate's Revenge, Part 9

I.

For the first time in his life, Jude McDowell felt that his life was in grave danger. In front of him, stood an increasing number of impossibly existing, identical creatures, with sharp features and a hungry look in their crimson eyes. Their claws quivered in anticipation of sinking into soft flesh, and the gaping, voracious mouths in the center of their hands chomped excitedly, starving for blood.

For a fleeting moment, he wished that he were a mutant, like their friend Michael Lawson. Surely, with some sort of dynamic, offensive power, Jude would have made short work of these creatures, saving his companions and himself from whatever fate they had in store for them. But he wasn't blessed with any abilities other than his natural athleticism, intelligence, and wit, none of which would come in handy against the things standing in front of them.

Suddenly, he remembered a show on the Discovery Channel, advising hikers how to deal with a wild animal confrontation. The monotone narrator advised watchers to shout and make themselves big, while hiding any signs of fear they had. The scene switched to a meek woman who saved herself from attack by following those exact steps, and as Jude remembered the recount of the situation, his confidence bolstered.

Stepping forward, he puffed his chest out slightly and scrunched his face angrily. "Don't you dare come any closer! Stay back!" His voice came out louder and harsher than he expected, startling everyone.

Rena's eyes went wide with horror. "Oh my god! Jude, what are you doing?!" she sharply whispered. For a moment, she thought that maybe he had snapped under the stress, but when he glanced back briefly with a reassuring wink, she knew that he had a plan. She would simply have to trust him and believe that it would work, which at this point was harder than it sounded.

The creatures and the five teens were frozen in a standoff, neither side moving a muscle. However, a few of the Emplates took an aggressive step forward, finally making their move.

Reactively, Jude stepped forward too. "I said STOP!"

The Emplates halted promptly, each of them tilting their head curiously, while narrowing their eyes in observation. An uneasy stillness befell the room.

"They're like wild animals," Levi observed, providing a hushed explanation to the three girls. "As long as we don't act afraid, they may leave us alone." To Jude, he whispered, "But we're trapped. The only way out is past them."

Surveying the Emplates, Jude took a deep breath. They were at a severe disadvantage both in numbers and sheer skill. The creatures surrounding them were hunters, vicious monsters with a pack mentality. The wrong move on their part would lend them to whatever fate befell the rest of the town. And though he surmised that the missing townspeople hadn't perished, he refused to allow this group of five to suffer the same fate.

He responded, "Then we're going to go through them. Just stay close."

Jude forced a step towards the creatures, altering his aggressiveness for confidence. He pushed the thought of inevitable evisceration out of his mind as he began the long trek toward the back door, slowly at first to temper any perceived hostility. His sister clutched his hand tightly, and he gently squeezed back as she too began to follow behind him. Their plan of escape had begun.

He chanced a quick glance at Tracy, who offered a slight nod, an affirmation that she implicitly supported his plan. They had known each other for years, so Jude trusted her to keep him in line. If anyone was to call him on shenanigans, it would be her.

Alyssa and Levi crept alongside the other three, huddling close to each other. She kept her eyes pinned on him while they maneuvered right through the center of the crowd of creatures. "Do you think this is a good idea?" she asked, making sure to avoid any eye contact with the creatures now on either side of them.

She felt as if she were in a terrible horror movie. The good-looking, clever, and witty teens were suddenly thrust into an terrible situation, compounded by the existence of a dreadful enemy—something impossibly existing with a hunger for human flesh. And this was the point in the story where they hoped to survive against all odds. And in as many horror movies as she had seen, Alyssa knew that it was quite probable that one of them wouldn't make it out alive.

Continuing to move forward, Jude scowled and clenched his jaw, maintaining an appearance of fierce anger. But as he looked from creature to creature, he could only imagine how menacing he didn't look. "I haven't decided. Ask me in like five minutes."

He and Levi led the rest through the crowd, and everything seemed to be going well until a vicious claw reached for Rena. She flinched and screamed instinctively, and faster than he thought possible, Jude snatched his sister out of its reach and batted the claw away with a firm grunt. The self-defense maneuver proved to be a mistake as the Emplates suddenly blocked their forward progression.

"Jude, they're not going to let us through!" Tracy gasped in horror.

He kept Rena and Tracy behind him, while Levi faced the opposite direction, leaving Alyssa behind him. The circle of friends drew closer as the Emplates converged on them.

Reaffirming his resolve, Jude said, "If they're not going to let us out, we're going to fight our way out."

"Dude," Levi said, "there's too many of them. We're outnumbered!" But like his newfound friend, he wouldn't settle for just giving up. He readied himself in a fighting position, prepared to throw as many punches as it took to escape.

"You are outnumbered, but not out-skilled," a female voice announced. The lightly Russian accent was accompanied by a brilliant light on the opposite side of the room. The Emplates were distracted for a moment and watched as a hooded blonde and a tall, muscular man who weren't there before suddenly appeared from the circle.

Jude watched in rapt attention as well, noting the similarity between the portal that brought the strange duo into the parlor and the circles of light the Emplates emerged from earlier in the evening.

"This may get a little messy," Bishop commented readying his weapon.

Near the door, a scream from the depths of hell resounded through the parlor. The barricade and surrounding wall buckled then blew inwards, and when the dust settled, Sean Cassidy was at the forefront, surrounded by his young charges and also joined by Police Chief Dan Authier.

Confidently, Michael said, "I'm not one for messy fights, so let's make this quick."

"Quick it shall be," Illyana replied. "Telekinetic, use your powers to shield your friends."

_She's a bossy one, and I have a name_, Michael said to himself. But he pushed his thoughts away, giving into his own newfound powers. An aura of bright blue energy rippled from him as he transformed thought into reality, creating a shield of pure will around the surrounded victims.

Illyana's eyes shone a bright crimson as she held her hand to the side. Speckles of light drew together with her hand as the originating point, then they collectively created an immaculate one-handed sword. The silver blade illuminated the room with its own light, as she raised it high in the air. With spoken words unrecognizable to all, she then brought the sword down, tip first, and drove it into the ground. A tidal wave of energy ripped forth and bombarded the Emplates, tearing them apart at the molecular level.

As the wave traveled outward, Michael kept his concentration on maintaining a telekinetic shield around the five teens in the middle of the onslaught. He could feel the foreign energy batting against it, and it took his full effort to keep the spell from decimating them as well. But though it seemed forever, the attack only lasted for a few seconds, still leaving him drained once he lowered the shield.

Kiana whispered to the group, "That was one of the most powerful spells I've ever seen." She hadn't felt such magical energy from a single person, which both surprised and scared her. Deciding to keep a close eye on the blonde sorceress, she kept the rest of her suspicions silent.

"What the hell just happened?" Levi asked. He watched as the glowing crimson energy rippled around them, held away from them by an invisible force. He suspected that somehow, the two events were from different sources, which was validated as things calmed down. The hooded blonde's eyes returned to normal and the young African-American male appeared dizzied and weakened. He glanced about them, surprised that there was nothing left of the Emplates that only moments ago surrounded them.

As the mystical mist subsided, Jude couldn't decide if he was amazed or still frightened. His heart still pounded against his ribs, and the familiar adrenaline high was at its peak. Never had he seen such fantastic, caustic lights pouring over him, shielded by his friend's ability to move objects with his mind. It happened so fast, and they were right in the middle of it.

Jude let a smile cross his face. "It's like Tracy said earlier, the good guys always show up at just the right time. Isn't that right, Mikey?"

"Something like that," Michael replied. He wished he could have been as excited as his friend, but his head throbbed from the exertion of power. The forces the mysterious girl wielded were unlike anything he had dealt with before. Even Richard Arminthorpe's strange energy paled in comparison, this one being far more destructive in nature.

He didn't make a habit of telepathically scanning people he didn't know. Not soon after he realized he could read someone's mind, it was quickly decided that such an act was somehow unethical. But with the danger they had faced as of late, all seemed fair in war.

His eyes flinched as he reached out to her, blocking out everything else in the room. His focus narrowed to just her, then he pushed himself to dive into her mind. But surprisingly, he saw nothing but darkness. Then an unrelenting force hit him.

Michael reached for his temple and stumbled before recovering his balance with help from Sean.

"Lad, take it easy," the headmaster said, concerned.

Prideful, Michael said, "I'm okay. I just need a sec." He didn't want to openly admit that the strange girl couldn't be mentally scanned, considering he did so without permission. Catching an unexpected psychic backlash was painful and embarrassing enough without telling his teacher. However, he did make a mental note to alert someone as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

Ethan was on the other side. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Michael nodded but kept quiet.

Alyssa cleared her throat. "Ummm...Mr. Cassidy, don't think I'm not grateful for the rescue, but did you have to destroy the entire front of the shop?"

Sean looked around, noting the decimation of the wall and windows. Smiling sheepishly, he replied, "Aye. My apologies, lass. When this is all over, we'll make sure t' help ye with th' damages."

"It was pretty impressive though," Jude said. For him, his heart still raced from being so close to being torn apart by the strange monsters. But his fear was being replaced by awe by actually seeing the Xavier students and teachers in action. It also impressed him that for the most part, they looked normal but housed something powerful within.

Behind them, Dan holstered his gun, thankful that the rescue was less eventful than their earlier encounter. He studied his daughter and the teens accompanying her, thankful that at first glance, they seemed to be injury-free. But with the desolate town, he knew that the other teens with Tracy had lost parents, relatives, and friends in the sudden attack.

"Are all of you alright?" he asked. When Tracy locked eyes with him, he knew she understood.

She nodded and answered for everyone, being the least shaken. "We're okay, Dad. Those things...I thought we were done for..." she closed the gap between her them and gave him a tight hug, thankful that she wasn't a victim to whatever fate the creatures had in store and that her father was okay too. When she pulled back, she noticed the bandage on his shoulder. "You're hurt."

"We had a run-in with those things earlier, but it's not too bad."

Levi cleared his throat. "Do any of you know if anyone's left out there?"

Sean was prepared to give a brief synopsis of what happened. He was ready to share the tumultuous history between Generation X and Emplate. He had readied himself to the inevitable questions about mutant powers, good and evil, and whatever other philosophy developed from this unforeseen misfortune. But when the expectant stares came, the kids undoubtedly wanting to know what happened to their parents, relatives, and friends, he didn't know how to answer.

"Ah'm sorry, lad. We dinnae know. Once we get back t' th' school, we'll have a better plan for a search and rescue effort."

Rena shook her head. "We were in the park—we saw them...those things take everyone...pull them into circles of light..."

"Kind of like the one you stepped from," Jude said, his accusatory glance unforgiving. His eyes darted back and forth between the hooded female and the armed male. "Who are you?"

"Lucas Bishop," he answered as he studied the new arrivals. The only familiar person in the room was Sean. With the exception of the police chief, who he had seen on the news a few times, the teens were strangers. But despite their age, they all appeared determined and focused with only a hint of fear. Granting them an appropriate introduction, he continued, "X-Man. Time-displaced. Mutant ability, power absorption and rechanneling. And I carry pretty heavy firearms. Emplate is using stepping disks similar to this one to teleport his army around."

Sean was honestly surprised at Bishop's presence, but he also remembered his old teammate's connection to Emplate. "Bishop, I didnae know ye were comin'. I take it th' rest o' th' X-Men are somewhere nearby?" he asked.

"They are in Otherworld," Illyana answered flatly.

"What in th' Sam hell are they doin' there?!"

Bishop nodded, following the police chief's lead on holstering his guns. "To start, Emma requested our help. But things haven't gone in our favor...Emplate's turned into something almost god-like, and he's recruited quite a few bodyguards. The only thing that saved us was a timely jaunt to Limbo. Amanda Sefton is with the rest, explaining the part that impacts her and that realm. The thing that bothers me is that I don't remember any of this from my own history. What I do know is that creatures like these roam the cities of my time, so this event could be directly related."

Ethan frowned. "Wait. So, you're from the future. And in your time, these things are all over the place. If that's true, does that mean we lose this fight?"

"Depends. I still haven't figured if my timeline is in the same period as this one," answered Bishop.

Jude rubbed his temples. "I'm completely lost. If you're from the future, and this is the past, then whatever happens here should create your future."

Illyana spoke up. "That's only partially true. There's an infinite number of universes based on actions, choices, and decisions at any given period of time. With that being said, timelines of those universes can diverge or run parallel at any given point. His timeline may be a sequence of choices and events that have yet to be made. But there is no guarantee that we experience the events that create his timeline. Honestly, he could be from the future of an entirely different universe."

Ethan still wasn't quite convinced. "Well, I guess that's supposed to be encouraging on some level. It means that we can still stop Emplate and his army."

"Yes, there is still a chance," she responded.

Now that things had calmed down, Sean paid much more attention to the blonde with the slight Russian accent. Something in his gut told him that the young woman who joined Bishop was someone familiar. "Ah'm sorry lass, but Ah cannae say we've met before," he said, hoping for clarification.

"But we have, Mr. Cassidy," she replied, pulling down her hood. She revealed long blond hair with straight-cut bangs, framing a fair face. Her sharp blue eyes were intense and contrasted against the friendly smile her lips curled into. "I am Illyana Rasputin."

Sean should have been used to unannounced resurrections and random appearances of old allies, but this one genuinely surprised him. And for a moment, he was stricken silent. He remembered the whole epic battle, codenamed Inferno in the Cerebro archives, at the end of which, Illyana sacrificed herself to save the world. But her tragedy wasn't over as she was reverted to a seven-year-old, contracted the Legacy Virus, and passed away right there on Muir Island. But here she stood, confident, powerful, and mature as if nothing had ever happened.

He regarded her with hesitation, noting that her icy eyes beamed with experience, forbidden knowledge, and a hint of a dark side.

Feeling as confused as Sean, Paige jumped in. "You're Peter's sister? But you were teammates with my brother, Sam. And he told me that you..." she trailed off, suddenly unsure how to continue without being insensitive or offensive.

"Sam Guthrie," Illyana repeated, as she recalled an almost seemingly lost memory. "It has been much too long since I have seen him. You must be Paige then. He spoke highly of you, even back then." In stark contrast to her cold eyes, a warm smile curled her lips.

Paige remembered her brother being devastated by the events of Inferno and the ultimate death of a teammate. But now, it seemed that all that was suddenly erased by her currently inexplicable existence. "I don't understand," she replied, still very much confused.

To the group, Illyana said, "There is much explaining that must be done. However, we have little time. From what we have gathered, this Emplate creature is bolstering his own power by using the collective lifeforce of your townspeople. He's draining them slowly, but their lives are in jeopardy. As he accomplishes more feats of teleportation and bursts of power, he will need to replenish his fuel source."

Her words hung in the air for a few moments as the gravity of the situation took hold. Pensive stares took over, and the contemplative silence that followed was even more concerning. Each person in the room deciphered the overall threat and risk according to their own experience and understanding. Unbeknownst to all of them, they all drew the same conclusion—Emplate was dangerous, and if they didn't do something, the entire world could be in danger.

Rena shook her head as if she was defying everything that happened. "There's really is no one left, is there?"

Bishop answered, "No. The people of this town are now hostages of Emplate. But there is still time for them to be saved."

Tracy, no stranger to the mutants, spoke up. "So, Emplate will be searching for more people to keep his power strong."

"And he'll use his army to do his dirty work. The circles of light must allow them to teleport wherever they want. If they can do that, then there's nowhere they can't go."

Illyana nodded in agreement with the two statements. "Your words are sound, but we must not waste any more time if we hope to stop him before he becomes too powerful."

Sean watched the other teens shift uncomfortably. He admired them because despite being human, they had survived the initial attack and planned on figuring out how to survive. They were faced with a choice—stay and continue to survive on their own terms, or go with mutants, who may or may not have their well-being in mind. He understood where they were coming from, and he also wanted them to understand where they would go. Together.

"She's right," Sean said. "Staying in th' town isn't safe. Ah know that ye jus' met us. It's a lot t' ask ye t' trust us. But Ah cannae force yuir hand. Will ye come with us?"

The teens glanced at each other, uncertain about each other's feelings.

Jude turned to his younger sister and quietly asked, "Rena, if we go with them, are you okay with that?"

"We don't have a choice," she frankly responded. "I'm scared, but if you say it's okay, I trust you. Besides, maybe we'll have a better story to top Conner's when he's back."

"What about everyone else? Levi? Alyssa? Tracy?" Jude asked.

The other three teens nodded in agreement.

"Everyone, gather close to me," Illyana commanded.

"Umm, does this teleporting thing hurt?" Alyssa apprehensively asked, as everyone got in place.

"Painful beyond comprehension," a playful glint flashed across Illyana's eyes when she saw the girl pale. "I am only kidding. You will not feel a thing. Now, we shall go," she said as the stepping disk materialized underneath them.

Responding to her mental command, the circle swallowed them, taking them to the safest location in the area—the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters.

II.

Rich Cale stared at his cell phone, a raging, yet silent conflict stampeding through his head. On one hand, he simply wanted to abandon these junior X-Men and pursue Emplate on his own. That would decrease his stress level to much tolerable levels, honestly. On the other hand, he still had Tasha's initial retelling of her vision stuck in his head. Somehow, he and these kids were supposed to confront and defeat Emplate, who was now in his true form as a powerful magic-wielding demon.

Rich had excused himself from the others after declaring he wanted to be returned to the city. Stepping onto the back patio, this was the first moment he had to really enjoy the temperate night. A warm breeze ruffled leaves in the distance, and bright stars speckled the vast, dark sky. Despite the tranquility of the night, he was on edge and couldn't fully relax.

His eyes felt worn and scratchy, which wasn't abated by rubbing. He took a deep breath, and with a push of a button, he dialed his foster sister. The phone only rang once before she picked up, automatically switching to video and voice mode.

"Rich! I expected you to call. And something tells me things aren't going well."

He sighed heavily. "I'm glad you're psychic. It makes talking to you so much easier. You're exactly right—Cartier was taken right in front of my eyes. And these Generation X buffoons...I can do this on my own," he solidly stated. He meant to sound much more firm, but fatigue and annoyance had taken its toll, and instead his voice was coarse and unemotional.

On the other end of the phone, Tasha Hamilton paused, giving Rich time to think about what he said. "This is as much their fight as it is yours. I know that you're frustrated. I wish my visions were more exact and less puzzling."

"It's not your fault..."

"You're still needed there. I don't know how, but if you leave, they won't defeat Emplate. And if you don't work with them, Emplate will win."

"I'm at a loss on what to do. You and Rimo keep telling me how important it is for me to work with these people, but they don't want my help either."

"I'm sorry this isn't easier, Rich. You won't find Emplate without them. That town and this world are in danger right now. It's not just the students that you must help...your abilities will support others that wear the X, the X-Men. I only realized it after you were gone, that school is actually an offshoot of the main school that trains the X-Men. Something this important and dangerous will draw them into the fight as well. There will also be others there, people who understand sorcery and have mastered it in their own right."

"Other arcanists? I recognize that the girl, Lily, has some kind of magic ability. But I haven't met any others."

"You will, quite soon. You still have more challenges to face before the final battle."

"I could have gone without knowing that. But since we're on the topic, is there anything else I should be aware of?"

"I don't know. I still have the feeling that something unexpected is going to happen...something bad, but also good. But it's not related to the entire group. I just keep seeing a lot of red..."

"You know, you're right. I wish your visions were less mysterious. But it at least keeps me on guard. I'll work with them. But I don't like it."

"I know. But this is the start of a relationship that will prove its worth. Be careful, Rich. Godiva and Kai send their regards to you too! And Rimo!"

"Thanks. I'll call again when I can." Rich ended the call, not feeling much better from when he initially started the conversation. It seemed everyone around him had the same ambiguous message, _work with the kids, save the future_.

III.

"What do ya mean we've gotta stay here?!" Jubilation Lee pointedly asked. She faced her former teammate, Kurt Wagner, with her hands on her hips and a scowl that would stop anyone in their tracks. Behind her, her current teammates stood in support, dressed in the new team uniforms, black with dark maroon accents.

Kurt shook his head. "Zis is not ze time for brazen defiance. It is unsafe for any of you to search the city."

"Last time I checked," Vanessa retorted with a hint of annoyance, "we were plenty capable of taking care of ourselves." She had become quite weary of being handled like a delicate treasure and being babysat by adults. Standing at Jubilee's side, she crossed her arms and threw the X-Man a challenging stare. "Our friends are out there, and they could need our help. We're not going to just sit here."

Kurt sighed, feeling a mutiny developing. He was no stranger to youthful exuberance, considering he could vividly recall Kitty Pryde's periodic outbursts in her younger days as an X-Man. But considering the gravity of the situation, he didn't want them venturing out until the entire team could properly regroup. "I must ask zat you calm down. Ve must not argue amongst ourselves."

Jono stepped forward to join his two teammates. _"It's not an argument. We decided that we're going. You're th' one that's standing in th' way."_

"Now I'm standing in your way," Tom asserted, folding his muscular arms over his chest. His friendly smile was replaced with a firm, disapproving scowl as he stepped in to support Kurt. "The order was to stand down. You're all smart kids, so I don't have to say it again."

Everett witnessed the situation already escalating unnecessarily, so he broke his own silence to interject some soothing words. But before he could speak, in the middle of the room, there was a sudden clap and the sound of a muted vacuum, followed by the appearance of a large circle of light. The missing members of Generation X, augmented by five civilians, Bishop, and Illyana rose from the portal.

Their sudden appearance extinguished the argument. At first, surprise captured everyone, then as recognition settled in, a mixture of relief and excitement befell the room.

Distracted from her ire, Jubilee was the first to speak. "It's like about time ya got back! Geez! We were like gonna figure out how ta totally get past these two and find ya!"

"Good t' see ye too, lass," Sean smiled.

"What's up with tha flatscans?" Jubilee scrunched her face as she observed the strangers standing in the middle of the living room. The only ones she immediately recognized were Chief Authier, Tracy, and Bishop. She had maybe seen the others around town at one time or another, as they looked remotely familiar.

"Flatscan?" Alyssa repeated, not sure whether to be insulted or not.

Michael found himself annoyed at Jubilee's lack of hospitality. "They were in danger, so we brought them here. And it's not polite to call people _flatscans_."

"Th' lad is right," Sean agreed. "We'll discuss manners after all o' this is over. Right now, we've got bigger issues at hand."

"Where are we?" Rena asked, as she studied her surroundings. She tried to keep her eyes from resting too long on the demonic-looking man, the girl with pink skin, or the red-skinned, clawed girl in the back of the crowd.

"The Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters," Emma announced, making her entrance from the stairs to the med bay. "Welcome."

IV.

The room bustled as the others gathered around, asking questions and retelling various portions of the unfolding drama. Several conversations happened at once, culminating with the final gathering of the X-Men, to include Amanda Sefton, and the student body and faculty of the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. No longer a school, the sprawling facility now served as the operations hub and a safe haven for planning their next move.

Currently, they were gathered in a conference room, courtesy of the Danger Room holographic program. The spacious area had plenty of chairs lined on the sides, with high-backed leather chairs surrounding a study oak table. Naturally, Scott sat at the head of the table, studying everyone through his ruby quartz glasses, until he finally rested on Emma.

He only planned on discussing the way-ahead with a few of the seasoned, experienced X-Men. However, Sean suggested including the students, considering they had a vested interest in saving the citizens of Snow Valley and stopping Emplate once and for all. Agreeing with the logic, the leader of the X-Men took a few minutes to review dossiers on each student to understand their abilities, which was critical to developing field teams. At the mention of deploying the students, Emma objected vehemently.

"I'll be brutally honest, as I always am," she began. "I don't believe in training children as Xavier's dream propagators or enforcers. And I don't for a moment entertain the notion that they're moonlighting vigilantes, world peacekeepers, or local superheroes. They're students, here to learn, not become mutant solders or militia puppets."

Her words hung in the air, surprising everyone but for different reasons. For most of the X-Men, it was their first direct dealing with Emma in regards to her students. Most of them remembered her as the mentor for the Hellions, a young group of mutants under the auspice of the Hellfire Club. Back then, her methodology was cold and uncaring, and she seemed willing to risk their well-being in the organization's game of chess with the X-Men, which ultimately led to the young team's demise. The Emma they saw today was someone totally different, a protector—someone who would refused to put any young mutant in harm's way if it could be helped.

Scott understood her reservations and wished he had a better way. But this situation grew more dangerous by the minute—they were the only ones who stood a chance against Emplate before his reach grew to encompass the world. He noticed the students shift, covertly showing some disagreement over Emma's perspective.

"Ms. Frost," Michael cleared his throat. He felt nervous about interjecting in, but someone had to say something. He was sure that others like Jubilee, Everett, and Paige were ready to jump in, but as one of the newer students, he should speak up. "I didn't come here to be a superhero, and honestly, that's not my intent. But if I have this power, an ability that most other people don't, and if I can use it to save someone, then that's what I'll choose to do every time."

Paige nodded, taking advantage of the pause. "I agree with him. Keeping us within these walls isn't protecting us by any means. We're secluded from the outside world and danger still ends up on our doorstep. Whether we like it or not, we're right in the middle of all these things that happen. We have to at least defend ourselves. And if Emplate is as dangerous as you say, then maybe we have to take the fight to him for a change."

It was Jubilee's turn. "We're totally not the Hellions. And you're not the White Queen, like most times. But fer reals, things are different now...you're different, and like because of that, we're different too. I hate ta admit it, but I think we've learned a lot from you, Frostie. Same with you, Sean. But ya don't know how good we can be unless ya like figure out when ta let go. We can totally make tha right decisions and like do the right thing. And all of us will come back together. No one gets left behind."

The three speeches combined were powerful coming from high school-aged mutants. Sean smiled, remembering his lack of maturity at that age. Despite their shenanigans, they were strong-willed, intelligent, and brave, a recipe for people that can make a difference in the world.

Emma frowned. "This situation is dangerous. As I said before, we're not a superhero team, and it isn't my intent on making you junior X-Men." She paused with a heavy sigh. "But this situation calls for unconventional methods. Scott, divide my students how you need to." She stood, facing all of her now grinning students and addressed them. "This isn't the Danger Room—this battle is real and a wrong decision can have detrimental effects. I'm going to hold all of you to Jubilee's words...all of you WILL come back together. And NO ONE will be left behind. That goes for everyone in this room. Even the world saviors and utterly evil sorceresses. Understood?"

"If I didn't know any better," Logan said, "I'd actually think you cared about all of us."

"Don't push it, Neanderthal."

Jean Grey-Summers silently commended Emma. She, like so many other X-Men, had a bit of a past with Emma. A rough one. Not only that, but she had serious reservations about Charles's decision to bring Emma on as an instructor. Every now and again though, she caught a glimpse of the reason why the Professor made his decision. And this would probably constitute one.

Changing the subject, she asked, "How is Cartier?"

Emma glanced in Monet's direction before answering. "He'll be fine," she said more for Monet's benefit than to answer Jean's inquiry. "He's unconscious, but I guided his psyche back to his body without much trouble."

Monet felt the knot in her stomach dissipate. Though cool on the outside, she too was just as worried about Cartier as the twins were. She couldn't imagine having to face her younger siblings if the outcome had been the worst possible circumstance. Mentally resolved, she focused—the team needed her as a focused powerhouse if they hoped to defeat Emplate. And she intended on having just a bit of revenge for the way the monster tore her family apart.

Refocusing the planning, Scott said, "We need to split into four teams. The Gold Strike Force will return to Limbo confront Emplate. The Blue Strike Force will also go back to Limbo, but they'll be searching for Emplate's source of power. The Red Strike Force will find the townspeople, and the Black Strike Force will remain here, as a quick responder for any local trouble."

"Color-coded teams?! This is getting real!" Rico grinned. Despite the dire circumstances, he couldn't help but be awed to be teaming with the legendary X-Men, the mutant heroes he had only read about in magazines and seen on television. Now, he stood right next to Wolverine, the short-tempered fighter of the team, and Colossus, the steel-skinned Russian with a heart of gold. He couldn't help feeling like a kid finally getting to meet his idols.

Jubilee retorted, "How about yer gettin' real dorky?"

"Rich, I know you wanted to tackle this on your own, but I think it's too dangerous to be in the city," Everett commented.

"Emplate is my problem, so I'm going," he resolutely replied, surprising some.

Jubilee rolled her eyes. "Ugh, for reals? Like yer still on that totally tired line? Emplate is a pain ta like all of us. Ya don't get dibs on that creepola. The only one here that totally qualifies fer that is Miz Perfect over there."

Telling himself not to get into a verbal farce with Jubilee, Rich remained silent. His patience was renewed by talking with his foster sister, but any more banter from his teammate by proxy would surely drive him insane.

Scott ignored the extemporaneous conversation and announced the members of the four teams, while providing specific tactical directions. Within a few minutes, the teams teleported to Otherplace, courtesy of Illyana Rasputin.

"Did I make the right choice, by letting them go?" Emma asked, letting her eyes rest on the spot that only moments ago her students stood.

Tom laid a consoling hand on her shoulder. "If there's anything I've learned about you, Emma, is that you don't make wrong choices when it comes to them."

A cynical laugh escaped her. "The verdict is still out on that. But thank you." She appreciated Tom's kind words, but deep inside, she knew better. Her actions against her sister arguably placed the students in more danger, not to mention some other decisions that caused consternation and mistrust from them and Sean. But she never expressed it to anyone, she internalized her doubts and showcased a cool, confident exterior.

Across the table, Rena still maintained an expression of deep concern and confusion. "They're putting themselves in danger. I don't understand why."

Her friend, Tracy, replied, "Because they're the only ones who can save the rest of the town. If you had that ability, wouldn't you?"

"I'm not strong like them. I was scared of them, but now, I'm even more scared because of everything that's happened. They're not afraid of anything."

Jude disagreed. "That's where you're wrong. I think they're afraid too, just like I was earlier. But they turn that fear into something else. Mike was wrong—they are superheroes, and I know that they'll save this town."

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional


	42. Emplate's Revenge, Part 10

I.

Rico Vidal couldn't believe that he had actually agreed to accompany the team into some other dimension to chase after a demonic god that had previously possessed the brother of one of his teammates. Thinking it through, it sounded like an epic venture that people only dreamed about. It would make for a great story someday, but right now, he crossed his arms and tried to hide his growing trepidation, as a chill shook his spine.

"Okay, so explain why we're in Castle Grayskull in the middle of Hell, why we're stuck here with the chick that tried to kill my friends, and why the rest went to Emplate's fortress without us," he openly asked to whoever would answer. He didn't dare look at the other four guys stranded with him—Ty Sullivan, Jason Tate, Craig Taylor, and Vincent Sellenger—for fear of them seeing some inkling of his true feelings. His eyes narrowed on the other trio in the room, Amanda Sefton, Mina Laroché, and Damien Sarantenos, as he was introduced.

Amanda answered, "I thought Cyclops explained clearly. Emplate used your powers to invoke a magical spell, which defeated his curse and restored his powers. We should be able to use a similar spell to debilitate him, somewhat. Our job is to give the others an advantage through magical means, so they can confront him. As for the other question, I cannot speak for any previous encounters you may have had with Mina, but there is no room here for your quarrel."

Rico didn't necessarily care for her tone, but she was right—it wasn't the time or place to squabble over what had previously happened. But he couldn't focus on the task at hand if he didn't at least understand the reason she was there. To Mina, he asked, "Well, at least tell me why you had a sudden change of heart and want to be a good guy."

Mina's silvery eyes narrowed. "I had a job to do. Your friends got in the way. It's as simple as that. I warned them, but they didn't listen. My presence here isn't about any of you, honestly. I'm a student of the Dark Arts, and my teacher is Witchfire."

Rico's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Belasco's daughter," he clarified, more for the others than himself. Although, he also realized that they probably wouldn't know the first thing about the previous demonic ruler. "So, you're a product of Limbo."

"You could say that," Mina shrugged. "Emplate is an intruder...I'm helping to defend this realm."

Vincent tried to be patient and listen, but there was too much going on, too fast. It seemed like only minutes ago, they were at the mercy of Emplate, a mutant monster that had kidnapped mutants with the ability to control specific elements. Being that he controlled fire and Rico controlled air currents, they both were captured as well. With some ingenuity and luck, they barely escaped back to the school in the care of the X-Men. The situation had undoubtedly gotten worse, and there wasn't much time for in-depth explanations. Subsequently, the majority of the team, coupled with the X-Men, teleported to this weird place place to stop whatever Emplate had now become.

For him, everything was a blur, and he still didn't quite catch it all. Annoyed, he interjected, "What the hell is a Belasco?"

"You don't want to know," Damien responded, running his fingers through thick, jet-black hair. The young man didn't know too much about Belasco himself, considering his own short tenure within Limbo. But every time the name was mentioned, he noticed Amanda and Illyana tense, and he later learned that Belasco was a previous ruler of the realm. Considering their reaction, he really didn't care know what anything more about the person or surrounding situations.

Jason shifted his weight, wanting to get back to the circumstance at hand. "So, if Emplate used some kind of magic, I'm presuming you can undo it."

"There are different types of magic," Mina explained, "so it's not as easy as simply casting a counter-spell. Considering his ability, we're going to have to come up with something much more powerful."

Damien added, "The mere parlor tricks you're familiar with don't even scratch the surface of true magic, let alone the Dark Arts Emplate has knowledge of. It isn't the same type of magic practiced by the likes of most Earth dwellers. There are few that have enough arcane knowledge and power to stand against Emplate. Mistress Sefton is one of them."

"And Dr. Strange. And Wanda Maximoff. And Agatha Harkness. And since she's alive, let's not leave out Illyana Rasputin," said Rico. He realized he had said too much when Amanda gave him a questioning glare.

"My, my," Mina said, voicing what the others were thinking. "You're quite knowledgeable about things you shouldn't be."

He laughed hollowly. "That's what happens when you're a closet geek and have access to a database of everything mutant or otherwise." Since being younger, he had followed the adventures of the X-Men through various news reports and periodicals. But since becoming a student at the school and getting access to Cerebra, the super-computer that connected back to the main mansion's computer, he learned much more about the team and its members. Every chance he got, Rico would peruse the database and read about various mutants and historical events. It was a secret enjoyment of his, but the suspicious glares meant that the magical trio didn't quite get his obscure hobby.

Next to Rico, Ty's curiosity and amazement grew with every passing moment. Less than twenty-four hours ago, he was living quite a normal life, hiding the fact that he could generate electricity. However, that all came to a halt when he became a pawn in Emplate's plan. Now, he had traversed into a completely different realm, something he would have never thought possible. Not only that, but he discovered that there were plenty of teenage mutants with powers of their own, that were willing to use their abilities to save the town. It bolstered his own sense of heroism, and he genuinely wanted to understand what was going on and help where he could.

He took the spotlight from Rico and asked, "So, you're going to try to recreate the spell Emplate used?"

"Something like that," Mina answered, turning her gaze to the blonde. "The origin and intent of our powers varies our magic. If Damien and I cast the same exact spell, we could have two totally different outcomes. It's the same with Emplate."

Amanda crossed the room then stopped in the middle. "We do not have much time. Elementals, you must take your place at the tips of the star." She waved her hand at a previously unseen etching on the floor—a star encased in a tight circle—and she stood in the pentagram made by the crossing lines of the design.

"Are you sure about this?" Ty nervously whispered to Rico. Though he wanted to be as calm and collected as the others, his trepidation began to take over. He was adventurous, but this was beyond a simple venture into the unknown.

Craig sneered, "You scared? It figures. People like you don't deserve to be mutants."

"Just back off," Ty snapped. "I didn't ask for this," he extended his hand as bolts of electricity snaked down his arm, popping and crackling in his palm, "but I'm here to help. I got dragged into this, but it's not just about me...the entire town is in danger, to include my parents. And I'm going to do what I can to save them. I'm not some X-Man or member of some mutant corporation, but that doesn't really matter right now. What matters is that I'm willing to work with everyone here to help the town. Are you?"

He let the white hot streaks dissipate into the air, lowering his hand back to his side.

Damien stepped into the conversation, closing the distance between him and Craig. "Listen, water-user. Mina hasn't told you, but these Emplate things are invading your headquarters. Your teammates are in danger."

"He's exactly right, Craig," Mina agreed. "The Arminthorpes aren't here, so their agenda is null and void for the time being. You're going to have to think on your own. Doing this with you makes it easier, but we can do it without you."

Craig felt his anger rising, but the logical part of him understood her rationale. Until this point, he was simply following directions, absorbing the mission bestowed by Mason Arminthorpe—to capture the members of Project Genesis. But the why was something none of them could answer, and now, that goal didn't matter. He had to pair with the very people he targeted and random mutants that were deemed to be unfit in order to save his own teammates.

Reluctant, he answered, "Whatever. I don't need the guilt trips. I'll leave it alone, for now." He gave a dismissive glance toward Vincent, with whom he seemed to have a rivalry. "Whatever we need to do, let's do it."

Rico was surprised he was so amiable and amazed that Mina wasn't the crazy witch he initially perceived. But he couldn't help but to wonder what their intent was? Why were they mindlessly following Arminthorpe's scheme? What would happen when this was all over? He had lots of questions, but they would have to wait.

The five elemental mutants took their spots surrounding Amanda, while Mina and Damien stood directly across from each other, on the outside, opposite sides of the circle.

Uneasy, Ty whispered to Rico, who was next to him, "Hey, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Nothing ever really seems like a good idea when you actually think about it. But we've got to go with the flow on this one. She's a good guy, kind of, so I don't think we're in danger. Yet."

Rico was amused with Ty's almost child-like nervousness, but at the same time, he understood it. The guy was a victim of circumstance, kidnapped and forced into the role of a superhero. But he had no training and really had no idea about any of them.

"Are we supposed to do anything?" Jason asked to Amanda.

"Just stand still, keep breathing, and act when I tell you," she directed. She closed her eyes and began a chant a foreign, guttural language, every syllable reeking of forbidden evil. As the chants intensified, a slight wind from nowhere in particular kicked up, rustling hair and clothes. She increased her volume only slightly, but the effects were devastating.

A crimson glow illuminated the floor design as the gusts became much stronger. The atmosphere grew dense with untamed energy, which tugged at the threads of reality itself. In the middle of the oncoming cataclysm, Amanda stood steady with her hands outstretched as she harnessed and controlled the summoned forces, her eyes casting forth a brilliant white light.

On either side, Mina and Damien served as controlling buffers. Their hands were in front of them as if they were physically pushing against the forces, keeping them in check, while their hair whipped wildly, cast about by the wind and magical forces. Still, they stood sturdy and unyielding, dedicated to their task of containing the arcane forces within the boundaries of the symbol.

"Now! Use your powers to the maximum! Direct them at me!" As Amanda issued the command, her entire body shifted into a void-like state, dark and endless. The five teens obeyed promptly, casting their respective powers toward the sorceress, and the elements were pulled into her body, inexplicably absorbed within her changed body.

The entire spell lasted less than a minute, but when it was concluded, a shockwave of invisible force knocked everyone to the ground. When the dust settled, everyone stirred with moans of pain and disbelief.

"I knew it wasn't a good idea," Ty groaned, pushing himself into a sitting position. His entire body ached, and judging from the ginger movements of his teammates, they were just as bad off as he was. But surprisingly, he saw Daniel and Mina already on their feet, quickly making their way to Amanda's side.

Vincent coughed and climbed to his feet. "What the hell just happened?"

Still helping Amanda to a sitting position, Daniel answered, "Mistress Sefton had to use a forbidden spell within the Dark Arts. It could have killed her. And us."

Rico shook his head in disbelief. "You know, you could have told me that my life was in danger _before_ standing on the star of destruction."

"You wouldn't have agreed, and we didn't have the time to convince you," he quipped, his main focus still on Amanda. To her, he asked, "Are you okay? Did the spell work?"

She took a deep breath as if trying to muster the strength to answer. Her voice came out weak and hoarse as she said, "Emplate is weakened. And yes, I will recover." She took a labored breath. She then stated, "Your friends, they are in danger. Your aid is needed there."

Rico's head still spun from the blow, so he had to replay through her words carefully. His friends were in danger—he didn't get past that sentence. He made his decision. But he didn't want to decide for everyone else. He turned to the others, "Are you guys up for this? It's going to be intense, and there are some pretty gnarly creatures out there. I have to help my friends."

Jason rubbed the back of his neck. The logical part of him couldn't process anything that had happened to this point. Interdimensional travel. Vampiric demon gods. Magical feats. Teenage mutant heroes. All of it didn't seem real, yet he was right in the middle of it. Rico may have had friends to save, but Jason had his parents to rescue and a notion for revenge.

"We've come this far, I'm not turning back," stated Jason. "If he's done something with the people in the town, I have to find my parents. I owe Emplate for what he did to me. And us."

Ty nodded in agreement with the same sentiment. "I'm with you guys."

"This whole thing is keeping us from finding Dr. Cain," Vincent said. "And it's pissing me off. I'm in."

Craig folded his arms. "Whatever. You guys don't have a clue about fighting. Hell, we defeated you guys pretty easily. If you're going to beat whatever's out there, you're going to need me."

"Whatever makes you sleep at night," Rico rolled his eyes. He turned to Amanda, "Alright. Can you send us there?"

With her returning strength, she closed her eyes. When they opened, a vertical stepping disk appeared like an illuminated, circular doorway against the far wall. The mysterious energy within the portal lapped over itself, creating a dizzying, visual escapade to behold.

"Go, quickly," Amanda directed. "We shall aid from here if needed."

Rico stood and led the others into the portal. When they emerged on the other side, he realized his mistake as they fell into the middle of hell.

II.

_Everything is going according to plan_, Emplate mused. He had rid himself of the meddlesome X-Men. The inexperienced Generation X children were no longer a threat. All of the residents of Snow Valley now served as sustenance for his power. Soon, the entire world would be at his feet in servitude.

His Hellions, recruited mutants empowered by magic, were elsewhere, exploring their new home and understanding the new world order. The only one with him now was D.O.A., who was loyal without any exterior influence.

Before determining his next move, Emplate sensed a formidable source of magic—it wasn't close enough for him to pinpoint the source, and it was only a slight shift in the atmosphere. But in the next instant, his insides tore apart as his body turned inside out, or at least, that's how it felt. The pain was immeasurable, and his knees failed him. Falling to his hands, a hard cough splattered blood on the floor as his suddenly feeble limbs shook.

"Master!" D.O.A. was by Emplate's side almost instantly. Though he was a fraction the size of Emplate, he firmly pulled his master into an upright position, then provided steadying support through his recover.

"Ah," Emplate moaned through labored breaths. "They have drawn first blood. They do not cease to surprise me." Though he was genuinely surprised, he was also angered. Somehow, he underestimated the X-Men's resourcefulness. Someone among them had sorcery skills that stood up to his own, but it wasn't consistent, otherwise, he would have detected it before. Whoever it was probably jeopardized their own life simply to stop him. Well, if they viewed their own life so insignificantly, then it was free for the taking.

D.O.A. asked, "What happened?"

A hollow laugh escaped through clenched teeth. "They managed to negate my spell and the barrier to the fortress. I have lost a portion of my power. I didn't think anyone in this universe was capable of casting such spells, but still, they will not thwart my plans. The final conflict is upon us. Summon the Hellions—I want all of these pests with an X to be stopped at all costs. Do you understand?"

"Understood," he replied.

Emplate stood with minimal help from D.O.A. and took a few stabilizing breaths. "The girl...I let her escape once. Never again. Her endless power can restore and sustain me indefinitely. She will be mine."

With that final statement, Emplate determined that the X-Men would not succeed in usurping his plans. And if he had to kill them, so be it. In the meantime, he had to prepare for that battle. He phased out of existence, ready to claim possession of the mutant named Penance.

III.

When they teleported into the heart of Limbo, Scott Summers wasn't surprised by the line of demons separating them from Emplate's fortress. They had parted ways from the elemental mutants of the team and Amanda Sefton—the latter assuring to find a way to turn the tide through sorcery. He agreed, considering the gravity of the situation. They were going to be faced with insurmountable challenges in facing their enemy, and any advantage they could get, Scott would gladly take.

He split the X-Men, leaving some back at the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters with Emma Frost and Sean Cassidy, and the others—James "Logan" Howlett and Lucas Bishop—accompanied him as oversight and experience to guide the students who agreed to come along. He could tell his teammates weren't in agreement on the decision to include the students in a battle, especially one this dangerous. Emplate had already shown that he wouldn't hesitate to take a life if they stood in his way of world domination. But the way Scott saw it, the students understood the danger, having faced Emplate several times before. If anything, they had a tactical edge because of experience, despite the presumed lack of concern for personal safety.

Regardless of unspoken dissention, the environment immediately proved to be threatening as demons of varying sizes and constitution eyed them with ill-intent. The X-Men, to include Illyana Rasputin, held their ground in front of the students, ensuring not to make any aggressive or sudden moves.

"Uh, Cyclops," Ethan Callaghan ventured in a hushed whisper. "What are we supposed to do about all of those...well...demons?" He couldn't believe that the warm circle of light that enveloped the team deposited them right into a storybook version of hell. The rocky terrain and hazy sky were uninviting, and the hot, dry air took his breath away.

Michael Lawson frowned. "Jude and Tracy aren't going to believe this," he said, knowing that his two friends would ask about the rest of their adventure. They wouldn't believe that seconds after disappearing in a circle of light, the splinter team ended up in the middle of a horror movie. It would be even harder to believe that demons in movies hardly compared to the real thing. And they would never believe that in less than two minutes after their arrival, someone was going to die.

Almost instinctively, the dual-psi erected layers of telepathic shields to keep anyone else out of his head and to keep focus as to not accidentally read their minds. It scared him to even imagine the atrocious contemplations at the forefront of the creatures' minds as they blocked the team's advance.

"I barely believe it," Graylon Walsh replied, "and I'm standing right next to you." The tag-along reporter scanned the area, his eyes ultimately resting on the monsters lined in front of them. He made mental notes of everything he saw—if he couldn't publish a story, the least he would do is annotate this adventure in his journal, if they made it out of there alive.

Illyana was the only one unfazed by the obstacle. "The law of this realm is to kill or be killed. It will serve you well to remember that."

Ethan wasn't quite sure whether it was a direct answer to his question or a completely random statement, but either way, he didn't like it. Despite his mutant physical prowess, violence wasn't something he condoned, let alone taking a life, monster or not.

As if she hadn't made a concerning statement, Scott replied, "Do you want us to—"

"No," she resolutely said, surprising him. "This is something I must attend to. Alone. Do not approach until the time comes."

Illyana strode ahead and cast her hand downward. A spiral of light appeared, swirled, then birthed an ornate, silver sword in her left hand as organic, silver armor enveloped her arm. A warm breeze ruffled her cloak and blond hair as she closed the gap between her and the horrific demons in front of them, brandishing her trademark Soulsword.

"Are ya okay with lettin' her go?"

Scott nodded. "I trust her. She knows what she's doing."

"She has an 89.96 percent chance of successfully nullifying the situation at hand. There is a 100 percent chance she will mortally wound someone to do it," Monet informed the leader of the splinter team. She continued to watch the mysterious girl stride towards the nightmarish line of demons.

A scaled, heliotrope monstrosity stepped forward challengingly, meeting Illyana's forward gaze with his narrowed, amber eyes. His moist muscles flexed, even while standing still, while his canine snout was slack, exposing rows of jagged, old teeth. Rough claws on his hands and feet, the monster's mouth upturned in an anticipatory smirk as Illyana drew near.

"Demon," she addressed, her eyes scanning the entire group before resting back on the ringleader. "Take your horde and leave this place." Her tone didn't waver and she stood still and confident as ever, surprising her teammates behind her and the demons facing her.

The lead demon flicked a black tongue over his rough lips, grinning with a glint in his eyes. "And who might you be, blonde morsel?"

"I am Illyana Rasputin, ruler of Limbo. And I do not issue commands twice."

His smile grew bigger, interest piqued by her gall. "I have long-heard of your name, but you are nothing but a human child." He stepped even closer and brushed stray bangs from her brow, impressed that she didn't flinch. "I'll tear you limb from—"

His sentence ended in a muted scream, as his torso slipped from the top of his hips. The top and bottom halves of his body fell in two different directions, cleanly sliced apart. Illyana stood posed, her sword paused at the end of her nearly unseen swipe and her eyes peering disgustedly at the felled demon. She moved her gaze to the rest of the demons, who murmured and stirred excitedly at the unexpected execution.

Lily gasped and turned away, burying her face in Ethan's shoulder.

"She cut him in half!" Vanessa Wallace exclaimed, watching the thick, dark blood ooze across the ground. Her heart raced and her mind whirled as the situation registered. Never before had she seen anyone or anything killed so mercilessly. To think that the blonde was capable of something like that made her rethink about which side this new girl really was on.

Angelo Espinosa, just as surprised, exclaimed, "Holy shit! She's the real deal!"

_"That was bloody ruthless!"_ Jono exclaimed.

Scott now wished he had listened to Monet's advice. The kids didn't need to witness slayings of any kind, no matter the environment. Though he believed in viewing the world as it was—a tactical maze and unforgiving challenge—impressionable teenagers shouldn't have to see vicious bloodshed. However, he believed that they needed to learn to defend themselves and act offensively, subduing without the loss of life.

Logan silenced them. "Enough jabberin'," he said, hiding his own surprise, though he had seen far worse. He didn't have much interaction with the girl in her previous incarnation, but witnessing her unforgiving execution gave him pause. He presumed she was a passive, turn-the-other cheek girl, like her older sibling, Peter...a warm and caring soul without a hint of a violent streak. He was wrong.

"Who else dares to openly defy your master?" Illyana challenged, her voice crisp and loud, while her eyes glistened with hardened cruelty. "My Soulsword is keen and thirsts for blood—let us pass, or I shall render a path made of your flesh and soul."

There was only a moment of hesitation before the sea of demons parted, leaving an open path directly towards Emplate's towering fortress.

She motioned for the group behind to follow her, but before departing, she asked to the demons closest, "Who prompted you to even fathom standing in my way?"

A hooved, hairy monster with thick horns and slits for eyes replied. "Mistress Darkchylde, it was Emplate. He coerced us."

She gave a dismissive snort. "I am not without forgiveness—your treachery shall be overlooked. Remember who your master is, and your place in this realm. You will serve no other, and any who stand against my comrades will be destroyed. X-Men, we shall pass through with no further interference."

Though the students didn't move at first, a nod from Scott spurred them to follow. They cast a few glances at each other, expressions riddled with questions, horror, and fear. Yet, they stayed strong, knowing that their presence and levelheadedness would be the only thing that would keep each other safe from the monsters roaming around them.

Illyana led her teammates through the walkway created by the parted crowd. They passed through without incident, and once they were out of earshot of the other demons, over her shoulder she said, "I am sorry you had to witness that—at least Peter didn't have to. I'm not the Snowflake he once knew."

Logan replied, "You've been through hell, kid. Ya did what ya had ta do. We don't judge—some of us have done worse. Much worse. Trust me on that."

Her eyes fell to the ground. "Your words are kind. Thank you." She was prepared to say something else, but there was a change in the air. Looking past the group, she witnessed a ripple effect travel through the unsuspecting demons, and as the air shifted, she witnessed something horrific and unexpected. "By the bright lady," she gasped.

The demons howled as they hunched over, clutching their midsections as their exterior metamorphosed into a grayish hide, clawed hands, crimson eyes—they were now Emplates.

Jubilee shook her head. "So, can you like order these clowns to stand aside?" she asked of the sorceress.

"My ability to persuade will not work on these creatures," Illyana replied regretfully. A glint of aggression shone in her icy eyes, "But my sword will."

"This madness must cease," Monet addressed to D.O.A. "Emplate is jeopardizing the balance of two realms. The consequences—"

His impossibly wide grin didn't falter. "I don't need the lecture, M. The boss has finally gotten his true form and ditched the weak meat sack that you call a brother. You people insist on getting in the way, so I'm here to stop you. Permanently."

Illyana studied the Emplates, noting weak spots in the head and heart area. "These wraith creatures will only dissipate with mortal wounds. It's the flaw of using humans to fuel these magical creatures."

"We have to...kill them?" Lily asked in disbelief. She couldn't imagine having to purposefully attack with the intent to end a life. And from the looks of her fellow teammates, they were in just as much shock.

"Kill or be killed...isn't that the law?" sneered D.O.A.

"I shall keep that in mind, imp, when we meet again," Illyana replied.

Scott understood the hesitation—the X-Men do not kill. But he quickly assessed the cognitive dissonance and attempted to ease the students' minds. "These things aren't alive. The real people are trapped somewhere in that fortress. Attacks to the head and the heart, people."

"That sounds like _game on_ to me!" D.O.A. exclaimed as the Emplates rushed the team.

Logan unsheathed his claws and bared his teeth. "Whatever you've been practicin' in yer Danger Room, it's time ta put it ta good use. This is fer real, no holdin' back," he said, as the team was flooded by the crowd of enemies.

"Fine by me," Michael said. For him, the fight began like a training session—he used a comfortable combination of telekinetic blasts and holds, coupled with quick, powerful martial arts moves. He alternated between close-quarters combat and long-range offense, which gave him more confidence and a sense of being almost untouchable. He was fast enough to surprise his attackers and stay a step ahead of them, while keeping them off balance with a wide array of attacks and counters.

But something inside shifted, and he finally unleashed the full range of his telekinetic power. Focusing his power as visible blasts from his head and hands, the devastating beams of psionic force destroyed the attacking Emplates at a molecular level. Erasing the creatures from existence seemed to only fuel his abilities even more, and he felt a developing, insatiable hunger to destroy more. Though a part of him warned knew something was horribly wrong, another part embraced his maturing abilities...and didn't want to stop.

On the other side of the cavern, a ferocious aggression overtook Illyana's features as she leaped into the mass. Her sword-handling was precise and unforgiving as she slashed in wide arcs to sever limbs and used ruthless thrusts to puncture torsos and heads. Grunting, she continued her deadly dance, just as unafraid of her attackers as they were of her. But her skill far outmatched their animalistic, primal attacks.

In the back of her mind, she realized how the fight excited her and drove her to destroy more enemies. It had been much too long since her last battle, but her technique had not dulled. She wasn't at the point where magic needed to be an option—her sword made light work of the Emplates that continued to swarm the group. After taking down two more, she chanced a glance at her teammates, fearing that they may not be doing so well.

And she was right.

Graylon's elongated adamantium claws sliced through the Emplates with incredible ease. But unlike Illyana, he wasn't a true fighter by nature. The Emplates quickly learned to dodge his telegraphed punches, slashes, and kicks, and suddenly, his previous upper-hand completely vanished as the Emplates managed to attack him from behind, throwing him to the ground.

_ They're going to kill me!_

The thought flashed across his mind as the creatures converged on him, and hungry mouths quickly gravitated toward him. Off balance, he couldn't climb back to his feet as his attacks turned into flailing desperation. He attempted to call for his teammates, but his weak voice was drowned out by the hissing of the Emplates and the other fighting cacophony in the background.

He felt warmth underneath him, and a mysterious glow startled the Emplates, driving them back. Before he could react, Graylon felt his body sinking, and when he glanced down, he saw a circle of light before totally disappearing. In the next moment, he was falling from the sky and landed on his feet next to Illyana.

"Do not flounder again. I may not be around to rescue you next time."

Embarrassed, he steadied himself as the creatures understood that their original target had simply relocated several feet away. "Noted," he said.

The advantage of being close enough to the Emplates was that he was able to mentally ascertain biological details about them, and with this knowledge, he was able to alter the effects of his other mutant ability—the ability to channel a foreign type of bioelectrical current through his adamantium hands. He found early on that he could temper the effects through a naturally occurring analysis of his target, enabling him to completely understand how to vary his power for a desired effect against any biological being.

The Emplates were unique because thought they were magical creations, they still had a biological aspect to them, as if they were simply soulless bodies under the command of a higher authority. Using this knowledge, he commanded the bioelectric energy flowing through his body into his hands, the familiar tingling feeling now a streak of pain. Without a second thought, he clasped his hands together, and a blue electrical field spread outward at the speed of light, barely visible to the naked eye. As soon as it reached the oncoming Emplates, the creatures were stopped dead in their tracks, as the bioelectricity overwhelmed them by overloading their bodies with electrical synapses, and the creatures instantly crumpled to the ground, disintegrating.

A triumphant smile crossed his lips. "You can thank me later. Where are the others?"

"They are not too far. We shall be at their side in a moment," she replied as a circle of light swallowed them.

Timid and overwhelmed, Lily found herself quickly separated from the others. She managed to dispatch a few Emplates, but she was surprised as one flanked to her rear and shoved her to the ground. Then it pounced, pinning her to the ground with one arm and the other raised high in the air, ready to slash through her soft flesh in the next moment.

But just like the others, a primal instinct took over—her eyes clouded over and her features contorted into a menacing, dark scowl. In the next second, a dark energy pulsed from her entre body, throwing the Emplate back several feet. Silent, she stood, her normal angelic wings replaced by opaque, ebon bat-like wings. With nothing more than a bat of her eye, her surrounding attackers disintegrated.

Illyana and Graylon stepped from a circle of light, into the open space surrounding their young teammate.

"Lily?!" Graylon called, thankful that the young girl wasn't being swarmed by the Emplates. For a fleeting moment, he did question just why she was standing by herself in the middle of a cleared area, never really surmising that somehow she was the one responsible for clearing the area. Instead, she turned at the sound of his voice, her emerald eyes bright. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"I—I think so," she quietly replied, avoiding Illyana's suspicious glare. "The townspeople, I think I know where they are...I can _feel_ their suffering."

"We shall go to them then. Others need our aid first," she replied. But before they could teleport away, Illyana felt a portal open high above them. She looked up, not surprised to see familiar faces falling towards them.

"The Amazing X-Men are here!" Rico grinned as they fell into the fray from a stepping disk, slowed by a forceful updraft.

"Yer like so lame!" Jubilee said. She ducked a swipe from an Emplate and shoved both her hands into its chest. "Eat pafs, loser!" A spectacular light show, accompanied by the familiar boom of fireworks resounded through the cavern as she turned her abilities against other surrounding enemies. The Emplates were blown away, faring weakly against the explosive flashes and bangs of light.

"Whateves, as you like to say. We're saving the day!" he said. He controlled the updraft precisely, enabling them to hit the ground without much impact. Once they did, they immediately leapt into the fray, adding their own powers to offensively turn the tide in their favor.

Focusing, Rico stirred the air currents into a whirlwind with a wide base, which quickly snatched up approaching Emplates. The sharp blades of wind sliced the creatures to shreds as if caught in a blender. Turning toward the other attackers, a quick gust of wind tossed them away easily. Though a different environment, the air currents responded to his command just as easily.

For Ty, this was the first time he unleashed his lightning offensively. He had always let off only a small spark every now and again, usually by accident. But this time, he commanded the bolts with deadly intent, creating chains of bolts that skipped between the creatures, missing his own teammates and sending deadly currents through his opponents. He easily wiped out several within a span of seconds.

Craig was no stranger with the utilization of his power, but it was a bit more challenging in a dry, waterless place. Still, he had enough stored to create a deluge that overtook the Emplates easily but didn't overextend his powers. Skilled at martial arts, he also took on his targets through hand-to-hand combat, making their defeat look easy.

Vincent kept tight control of his power, able to cause spontaneous combustion that mercilessly incinerated his targets. It was finally the chance for him to cut loose, and he didn't hold back. He easily kept the Emplates at bay, and even lent Bishop some aid.

Across the cavern, a sword plunged through the chest of one of the Emplates, piecing it clean through before being pulled back by Rich Cale. Before his first lifeless opponent hit the ground, he twirled around with a well-placed slash to another creature's torso.

"Are these things ever going to give up?" Clarice asked, whipping around with a powerful high kick, which easily took out the Emplate in front of her. Only a few feet away from Rich, she was fighting for her life near her teammates, who fought just as hard.

Her speed and agility proved crucial to her victories as she unleashed sweeps and hand strikes to defeat the attacking creatures. Using her own teleportation abilities, she honed her focus, and with a blink resounding through the cavern, an entire group of Emplates suddenly fragmented as if they were being reflected in a broken mirror. The fragmentation lasted only a moment, casting them into a fit of pain before they vanished, never to be seen again.

"They're mindless, relentless guard dogs," Rich answered in between defensive parries and offensive thrusts.

She took pause, "I take that as a _no_ then."

On the other side, the second-in-command of the Generation X students took out three adversaries simultaneously, but he could feel his endurance waning. "Cyclops, they just keep coming. We can't keep this up!" Ethan said, landing a solid punch to an Emplate.

"Don't worry...we won't have to." Scott unleashed the maximum might of his optic blast, an unbridled blast of concussive force that tore through an onslaught of approaching Emplates. The creatures were bathed in crimson light and hit with the direct impact equal to that of a speeding train. For a normal person, the blow would have shattered every bone, but in this case, it completely obliterated the creatures. After the attack, he asked, "Marvel, did Jean show you how to mind-link?"

The question caught the dual-psionic student off-guard as he finished off yet another Emplate. He had to think for a second—the process from what he remembered should be easy. Relax, expand his mind to those around him, and maintain strict concentration on the connections among everyone. "I—I think so," he replied, slightly unsure.

"We need one. Now!"

Michael shifted his focus and everything around him slowed to a complete stop, a common occurrence when creating mind links. Because of the connection to the astral plane for what would essentially be considered a conference call, the speed of thought far surpassed the normal passage of time, allowing for thousands of thoughts to be transferred in a matter of nanoseconds.

Scott led the telepathic conference. _"Okay, Vanguard's right. We'll wear ourselves down by engaging the Emplates. But they're a significant roadblock."_

_"If these things are created from the townspeople, we can get rid of them at the source,"_ Bishop suggested. Though not ideal, he knew that they would have to split the rather large team into the smaller groups as discussed earlier, which would help them cover more ground in stopping Emplate.

_"Agreed,"_ Illyana said. _"Lightwing has detected their location. And Emplate's powers have been dampened by Amanda's efforts. We will be able to enter the fortress."_

_"Yeah, nearly killing all of us in the process,"_ Rico mentioned, the memory still a bit tender from the encounter.

Michael felt an ache behind his eyes. _"Keep the chatter to a minimum. It's not easy keeping this many people connected."_

Scott understood the strain that went along with telepathy and inexperience. Succinctly, the gave the final orders. _"Wolverine and the Blue Strike Force attack from the opposite side of the fortress. My team will go through the front to find Emplate. Bishop and the Red Strike Force will take care of wherever he's getting his energy from. Magik, can you get us there?"_

_"With ease,"_ she replied.

With the plan revealed, Michael broke the telepathic connection with the others in enough time to duck underneath a wild swipe from another attacker. From a crouched position, he narrowed his eyes angrily, and in the next moment, the Emplates around him were disintegrated, molecularly torn apart. The engagement didn't last long, which suited him fine, since the next course of action was to rally with his teammates to teleport to their next destination.

But before he could make another move, he found himself surrounded by twice as many Emplates. _Talk about annoying_, he thought, dreading more offensive fighting. But when they lunged at him, he had no choice. He whipped around with a well-timed kick, making solid contact with the side of an Emplate's jaw. A quick, strong backhand took out another, and a left hook connected with a loud _crack_. Focusing his telekinetic power, he pushed his hands out to the side and his powers extended in a radius around him, bowling over the surrounding enemies, which gave him enough time to make a break for it.

He ducked through the recovering crowd, barely touching the ground as he floated toward the rest of the team.

"Took you long enough," Ethan said after taking down another Emplate.

Michael didn't respond, instead, focused on moving closer to Illyana along with the others. A quick scan revealed that the others were in place, just as they had planned. He made brief eye contact with Illyana before a bright light overtook them, and they disappeared to their next challenge.

IV.

Paige Guthrie stared at the monitors in front of her, not really focused on the displays. Her sharp, blue eyes stared blankly ahead as her mind rolled over the visions of horror that her teammates were facing. Only moments ago, half of the team teleported to Limbo, courtesy of Illyana Rasputin, who was previously thought to be deceased. Though there was no real explanation of her resurrection, they had a much larger issue that had to be addressed—Emplate.

The creature had separated from Monet St. Croix's brother, Marius, and now acted autonomously, seeking to conquer the world. To make matters worse, Emplate created clones of himself, mindless monsters to carry out his bidding, and the first thing they did was kidnap the Snow Valley residents. They surmised that Emplate used the citizens as an energy source, feeding from them in the same way he fed from mutants.

Determined to stop him and led by Scott Summers, the team used a stepping disk to travel into Limbo. She stayed behind as the support team to provide backup if needed, but now she found herself thinking about the rest and hoping they were okay. She remembered only snippets of what her brother, Sam, told her about his unexpected trips there along with his teammates at the time, which included Illyana. Needless to say, the descriptions he used made it sound more like a hellish dimension, wrought with demons. She wasn't particularly scared, because heroes weren't supposed to be, but she was definitely allowed to worry.

In particular, her mind wandered to Ethan Callaghan. They weren't exactly dating, but they were more than just interested in each other. But they really hadn't talked about anything down that path, since the time just hadn't been right. There was always something going on—school, crazed mutants, demonic realms. Then there was Jono... it was awkward living and eating with the last person on earth she really cared to see. She had avoided him as much as was reasonably possible.

But that's not what heroes do.

So, she simply kept her feelings to herself, managing to excuse herself from Jono's presence, which inevitably put her right into Ethan's arms.

She turned her attention to Cerebra, wanting to get her mind off her love triangle and the apprehension of half the team maneuvering within the depths of some place with fire and brimstone. As Paige began to type, she realized how much she enjoyed being one of two computer gurus of the team. Since Forge had given Cerebra some long overdue upgrades, she found it much more user-friendly and intuitive, all while maintaining its vast computing power and beyond. Not just a supercomputer, it was an amazing piece of alien hardware, which linked into the more technical aspects of the school, including security protocols and the Danger Room.

Her nimble fingers flew over the keyboard, and with only a few additional keystrokes, several displays appeared across the paneled screens. The visual on the upper, far left caught her eye, and immediately, she zoomed in on the scene. But before she could identify anything, another window opened and Kitty Pryde was suddenly looking back at Paige.

As member of the parent team, she was observing the situation from the main mansion and serving as a communications hub for both teams. Things were disturbing up to this point—a mutant once thought to be a low-threat menace suddenly became a god-like danger to the entire town, traversing a dangerous realm that the X-Men were all too familiar with.

"Are Emma and Sean there?" Kitty urgently inquired.

"They're talking with Ms. Summers, Mr. Rasputin, and Mr. Wagner. The rest...they went to Limbo." Paige bit her lip. She thought about telling her about Illyana, but then decided against it, considering she really didn't know all of the details.

"I figured as much," Kitty responded thoughtfully, as if pondering some unseen ramifications because of their lack of presence. "I was checking out the surrounding areas down there. Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" she asked.

The young Southerner studied the screens, her lips pulled into a tight line.

Paige's screen panned in from a bird's eye view to the streets, where the foreign creatures searched endlessly for their next victim. Much to her dismay, she didn't see any normal humans on the street. She was a part of the group that was briefed by Bishop on the current situation, but seeing it virtually with her own eyes was entirely different.

"Oh my lord, The Emplates...they're roaming the streets...they're everywhere!"

For some reason, the Arminthorpe Corporation popped into her head. They were nearby, so it was likely that the Emplates had found them also. She adjusted the coordinates with a few keystrokes then watched as the camera zoomed onto the estate.

"That's not all," Paige informed the X-Man. "There's another group of mutants in the area. They have a compound about thirty minutes from here. It looks like the Emplates have found it too. They've got a high level of security, but I don't think it'll work against them. And if Emplate gets a hold of more mutants, we could be in more trouble."

Deep in her heart, Paige valued everyone, no matter what side of the tracks they came from. And if she had the power to help someone, then she would, regardless of reciprocity, which is what made them different from their foes.

"I'll tell Mr. Cassidy. We should be able to send a team out there. We can't let them face this alone, even if they're our enemies."

Kitty nodded. "Understood. Things are getting dangerous, be careful down there."

"Will do," she replied then ended the transmission. In her mind, she had already pinpointed the right people to respond...she just hoped that they could get there in time and that they weren't too late.

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional

Aotrs Commander – Thanks for continuing to stick with the story! You'll get to see the split teams in the next chapter, which should make for some great dynamics between the X-Men and the students! And yes, I'm not quite a fan of the new direction they've taken Jubilee, so we'll just have to wait until this Phoenix thing is all over to see what they do with her!


	43. Emplate's Revenge, Part 11

I.

"We have arrived," Illyana Rasputin announced as the stepping disk dissipated into tiny lights, leaving the uniformed team within a stone-walled, high-ceilinged chamber. There wasn't much light, save burning torches lining the walls, set about twenty feet from each other. The flickering luminescence made the shadows around them dance with an unorthodox rhythm, while the only sound was the crackle of the flames licking at the air.

"Anything, Magik?" Scott Summers asked, purposefully using her codename. There wasn't much time for him to digest the apparent resurrection of Peter's sister, so for the time being, remaining distant and mission-focused kept him from asking too many questions or thinking too much about it. For now, he resigned to accept her presence and assistance with the intent of finding out something more once the current situation was resolved.

She crisply reported, "I do not detect any magical threats so far, Cyclops. But we are in the heart of Emplate's fortress. My spell will keep us hidden only for so long." Moments ago, Illyana uttered an incantation that was rudimentary for one of her skill, which completely masked them from being detected by any mystical means. Since they teleported directly into Emplate's fortress, the danger of being discovered loomed near.

"Marvel?"

Michael Lawson took that as his cue to perform a telepathic sweep of the area. Excluding the minds closest to him, he took a deep breath as he closed his eyes, and the entire fortress opened up to him. The exhilarating feeling of letting his mind roam freely was always intoxicating, and it seemed to want to reach out farther than the limits he placed on himself. The act lasting no more than a few seconds, he forced himself to pull back as to not risk being detected by another telepath.

"Nothing. No one's nearby," he confidently reported.

Satisfied, Scott scanned the others through his ruby quartz visor. He expected a fight as soon as they appeared in the heart of Emplate's fortress, considering the onslaught of Emplates they barely escaped from only moments ago. But things were quiet. Too quiet. As cliché as it was, he couldn't help but to think it. Regardless, they were inside, which put them one step closer to Emplate, and had time to collect themselves.

He announced, "I'll scout the immediate area with Vanguard. Everyone else, stay here."

Ethan Callaghan, using the codename Vanguard, understood the logic of having to accompany Scott—he had close-range tactical advantage, while the X-Man could easily handle the long-range offensive. They could actually split into twos and have the same capability: Monet paired with Michael and Graylon paired with Jason. Illyana was the most diverse, being able to handle any range of attack or defense by the sheer nature of her abilities. However, with the Danger Room training and hand-to-hand combat lessons with Tom Corsi, the people who were normally dangerous from afar were equally effective in close quarters.

Scott split the teams according to ability, despite not really knowing what the young mutants were capable of, especially the new additions. Having only performed a precursory glance over their dossiers, coupled with a telepathic implantation of the information by Jean Grey-Summers, he gathered that they were powerful in their own right, youthfully energetic, and were sufficient in the use of their powers. He had no doubt that each team had the power and diversity needed to be successful.

"Be on your guard," he warned before disappearing down the dark corridor with Ethan.

The teens left behind wasted no time in searching their immediate area, splitting into two groups. As the all-male team searched the opposite side of the corridor, quieted conversation erased the foreboding silence.

"What do you think about that girl?" Graylon said, eying Illyana with curiosity from afar. He wasn't really sure exactly why, but her strange aura and deep eyes kept calling to him. He caught himself staring multiple times at the school, and now that they had a lull in focus, he once again found his eyes fixated on her.

Jason Tate asked, "Are you talking about Magik?" He followed Graylon's gaze to the blonde, engaged in a quieted discussion with Monet St. Croix. He turned back to his teammates. "I don't know too much about any of you, but I think she's got a history that you really don't want to mess with."

"But I can't take my eyes off of her. There's something about her..."

Michael narrowed his eyes, suspicious of his teammate's shift in behavior. "Did you bump your head? What's with you all the sudden?" Before, Graylon seemed to be quite standoffish—it was unexpected that he actually thought about something other than being a reporter. However, because of the current situation, he thought it strange that they were even having this conversation. The thought crossed to read the reporter's mind for insight, but he quickly abandoned the idea for his own personal, ethical reasons.

"I don't know," Graylon responded, his gaze still locked on her. "I just—I've never seen a girl like her before."

Michael said, "You know, timing is everything. We're in the middle of what most people would probably refer to as hell. We've got a demon mutant god who wants to rule the world lurking somewhere around here. And we're supposed to be focused on rescuing people and stopping said demon mutant god. So, somehow, I think your approach may be better received a little later."

His determination wasn't swayed. "Look, everything is quiet right now. We're just waiting for Summers and Callaghan. You've got to strike when the iron's hot!"

"That iron is ice cold," Jason commented, crossing his arms in disapproval.

Graylon rolled his eyes. "I can see why you don't have a girlfriend. Just wait here," he said. He separated himself from his teammates, feigning meticulous investigation that coincidentally brought him closer to the girls. He approached carefully, making it seem as innocuous as possible.

_"You might want to stand back for this one,"_ Michael telepathically indicated to his cousin, Monet. He watched as Graylon, not so smoothly, headed toward Illyana.

_"I am already cognizant of the impending situation, thanks to my acute hearing. This should be quite interesting,"_ she replied, strategically placing herself a few feet away from Illyana. She hid her amused smile by turning away after a few distancing steps.

_Now's my chance!_ Graylon excitedly noted as he saw an opportunity—Monet, for some reason, separated herself from Illyana, which gave him an opening without any outside interference. He steadied himself as he joined the sorceress at the mouth of a long corridor.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, he said, "Umm, we didn't find anything over there, but it looks kind of sketchy over here. Any clues in this area?"

"No," she coldly replied, still curiously gazing down the corridor. Before Graylon's interruption, she swore that there was a strange noise in the same direction that Scott and Ethan had gone only moments ago.

He gave her a smile, despite the initial perceived lack of interest. "I don't think we've gotten the chance to introduce ourselves, especially after what happened back there. I'm Graylon Walsh, future star reporter for the Daily Bugle."

"I am Illyana Rasputin."

Her response was abrupt, but he wasn't dissuaded. "So, what's your sign?"

"Stop."

He smirked, amused by her reply. At least she had a sense of humor underneath her seemingly cold, unemotional exterior. "Are playing hard to get?" asked Graylon.

"I do not play. I am."

"At least tell me how old you are."

"Sixteen."

"Living here all this time, it must have been tough."

"I managed."

"Are you seeing someone?"

"I see many people. I am not blind."

"You're not much for conversation, are you?"

"Not with you."

The last replay slapped Graylon to his senses, realizing that the magical stranger was not taking kindly to his advances. But for some reason, that only energized him more.

Monet found humor in the exchange and barely held back her amusement. Rejoining the duo, she commented to her, "Just ignore him. In time, his garrulous nature will become no more bothersome than a gnat buzzing through the air."

"I shall remember your words," Illyana said, giving an appreciative smile at the end of her response.

Graylon gave his new teammate an exasperated glare. "Come on, Monet. Aren't you supposed to have my back?"

"This is not the time or the place for overtly flirtatious, highly inappropriate efforts, considering the impending situation. Besides, the majority of us still do not appreciate your presence, though you continue to force your way into our unplanned circumstances. It would be best if you at least desist in further grating on our nerves."

His cheeks burning with rising anger, Graylon replied, "You don't have to be so cold."

"Doses of reality tend to possess a chilling factor," Monet replied, ignoring his obvious chagrin.

"Look, I'm trying here. My uncle is still missing, and I've accepted that you guys are trying to help, even though we're no closer to finding him than when you all decided to join in the search."

"It's not like we haven't been looking," Michael replied as he, with Jason trailing behind, approached the group. He was concerned about the conversation but also had a nagging suspicion of impending danger. But it danced right at the edge of his telepathic abilities, so he couldn't pinpoint anything other than a distant notion. Not wanting to alarm the others, he kept himself on high alert, ready to react if something occurred.

Graylon addressed the comment. "Obviously, you guys need the help, so I figured that I'd join you on this little adventure."

"That's quite a different tune than before," Michael replied. "Last time I saw you, you stormed out of the school, vowing to burn us to the ground in media flames. I still really don't know what that meant, but—"

"Considering I was a prime witness to the Ambassador's kidnapping, I kind of got dragged into this," Graylon clarified, taking a more defensive tone.

"Let's be real. You're continually investigating us, so you probably purposefully inserted yourself into the situation," Michael said.

"That's not the point," Graylon snapped. "Look, I'm a reporter. It's what I love doing. I'm a mutant too. And honestly, I'm finding that my powers are something useful, not just an annoying curse. This town is always in danger...you're not the only ones interested in protecting it. Not to mention my missing uncle, again."

"When this is all over—" Michael began but stopped abruptly. The nagging feeling of danger suddenly became a blaring beacon within his mind. He tried to reach out with his telepathy but couldn't, as if he was being blocked from reaching out. "Something's wrong. Cyclops and Vanguard have been gone too long."

From the dark corridor, Scott and Ethan tumbled out of the darkness through the air, then hit the ground, rolling over themselves until stopping near the teens. Monet and Graylon immediate lent aid to them, helping them to their feet. The both of them were dirtied and dazed, barely able to steady themselves even with help.

Before anyone could ask, Emplate emerged from the shadows, his crimson eyes glowing brightly. "Divide and conquer? I expected a more complicated plan from the leader of the X-Men."

Scott managed to regain his balance, standing on his own. His head whirled from the sheer speed and power of Emplate's unexpected attack. He and Ethan were searching the corridor and saw no sign of peril as they ventured further. In a flash, Emplate appeared before them and without warning, they were struck down—the attack could have been much worse, but he immediately discerned that the villain was making a point.

_This is my realm, and you're at my mercy._

But Scott had faced far worse threats and survived against the most heinous of odds, so he wasn't fazed in the slightest as he put himself between the teens and Emplate. "Falling short of your expectations really doesn't bother me," he said. As he spoke, his mind was already processing the environment and situation, using uncanny strategic and tactical abilities.

At first glance, they seemed to have the advantage just due to numbers. There were seven of them against one mutant demi-god. However, at this point, Emplate was a bit of wild card, considering the acquisition of his newfound abilities. Scott hadn't seen the full breadth of his power, so they were at a disadvantage both offensively and defensively.

"You realize," Emplate stepped forward, his scarlet eyes aglow, "that I anticipated your plan. I'm well aware of your other teams approaching my fortress in a flimsy attempt to ambush me and save the innocents of Snow Valley."

Scoot replied, "Well, neither one of us have any surprises up our sleeves. We're here to stop you, plain and simple."

"And just how do you plan to dethrone a god?"

"The same way that we do it every time. X-Men, engage!" Scott commanded. He made the first offensive move with bursts of optic energy as he charged forward. The rapid fire attacks were blocked by en erected shield of energy, which he expected. However, he expected the teens to flank the target, which they did.

Ethan tapped into his super-speed, dashing forward in a wide arc, with the intent on ending the fight quickly by getting close enough to negate Emplate's powers. He closed the gap quickly and reached out for Emplate. "Let's see how badass you are when you can't use your powers," he said.

"You forget," Emplate said, following it with a strong backhand that sent Ethan flying, "I'm not a mutant."

The young man smashed into the wall, protected only by his natural resilience and durability. Coughing and dazed, he still climbed to his feet quickly, admonishing himself mentally for his mistake. "Lesson learned," he said as he took a moment to recover.

Illyana realized an opening and took it without hesitation. She summoned a stepping disk, and the luminous circle teleported her directly behind Emplate mere seconds after Ethan's foiled attack. "I shall teach you respect, monster," she said, as her sterling silver Soulsword appeared from nowhere into her hand and her trademark Eldritch armor encased her arm.

Emplate threw out daggers of energy, sending the rest of the team into a defensive posture to avoid the wayward attacks. He then snapped around to his new opponent. "Your powers are nothing compared to mine, even in your own realm."

Illyana smirked confidently, "You have not seen the extent of my powers." A broad swipe of her sword sent a brilliant energy slash towards Emplate. It easily broke through his defenses, staggering him.

At that moment, Jason took advantage of their fleeting opening. His hands out to his sides, he created a seismic disruption that ripped through the floor towards Emplate. But his target recovered much too quickly and phased out of sync with the dimension, his image becoming a translucent blur. The tremor passed right by him without effect, and Jason silently cursed.

But Graylon was able to step in right where Jason left off. He unleashed a pulse of bioelectric energy, breaking Emplate out of his invincible state. "Don't underestimate any of the rest of us either," he said.

Emplate smiled, energized by the youthful vigor. "Come then, mutants. Show me your worth. Impress me, and I'll spare your lives. You'll be among the elite to join my ranks if you survive. Falter, and you will die."

"There's no in-between with you psycho mutants, is there?" Jason asked.

"Keep the pressure on," Scott reminded the young team. He unleashed more optic blasts, which were meant only to divide Emplate's attention. They continued to be deflected and absorbed, no matter what angle Scott attacked from. From the corner of his eye, he saw Michael floating in the air, ready to attack.

"I don't know what this power is that I have, but to defeat you, I'll embrace it fully," Michael said.

A cackle resounded through the chamber. "You sound just like Cartier. And you will fall like him."

Michael's eyes burned hot blue as he levitated several feet from the ground, his telekinesis now a visible form of energy, rippling over his body. Around him, the environment stirred and bent against the powerful forces the telekinetic summoned, and the azure brilliance illuminated the entire room, as if a small star was shining within him.

The corner of Emplate's mouth turned upwards in anticipation. "Hmmm...this should be interesting...tapping into the power of the—"

"You talk too much," he coldly snapped as a telekinetic blast shot from his hand, and the ray of energy found its target with ease. The blunt force collided with the same impact as a speeding train, sending Emplate tumbling head over heels though the air. But instead of smashing into a wall, the villain sailed into Monet's path. With gritted teeth and hate in her eyes, she unleashed a crippling downward double fist strike that hit with a sickening _crunch_. Emplate smashed though the stone floor into darkness below, leaving behind a gaping hole.

Into the darkness, Monet said, "Do not EVER allow my father's name to pass your lips again, monster." She peered into the hole, waiting for Emplate to spring back up, but after a minute of returned silence, she glance at her teammates who waited for her assessment. "He's dispatched for the time being. We should—"

No one was prepared for the flash that indicated a physical and psychic assault that erupted as a flash of pain before rendering all of them unconscious. Emplate rose from the darkness below, with an eager smile on his face. He underestimated the young mutants and their mentors, impressed by the raw power they all possessed. His attack was only meant to cripple—in time, he would make them his. But to do that, he needed to find his new target.

"My apologies for cutting our time short. I'm sure we will meet again. Now, I come for you, Yvette..." he said as he vanished completely.

II.

James Howlett, known to most as Logan and a select few as Wolverine, surveyed the surrounding area, frowning. He didn't expect Limbo to be a detour in the quest to find and defeat Emplate. It had been years since Inferno, the global demonic invasion that took the life of Illyana Rasputin, the younger sister of their teammate, Peter. And it had been just as many years since his last jaunt to the demonic realm, and he hadn't spoken of it since. But here he was, in an unknown part of Limbo, teamed with mutant teenagers from the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, some familiar, some not.

The young, red-skinned girl caught Logan's attention the most. Skittish and mute, she eyed the world with a child-like curiosity, which was refreshing for him. He was weathered and jaded—so many things occurred throughout his life, most of it being traumatic. But he also felt a kindred spirit in the girl. He didn't know what it was, but he was sure that something terrible had happened to her, because every now and again, he caught a glint of distress in her azure eyes.

Next to her stood Jubilee, the young girl with whom he had developed an almost father-daughter relationship. The young Californian and the rough Canadian somehow clicked, and had many adventures and learning lessons together. Logan was glad for the separation though—in just being around her in a short amount of time, he could see how much she had grown and matured. She created a spectacular display of fireworks as her power, which she had refined into a streaming lightshow and high-damaging explosions.

Vincent Sellenger was one of the new students with the ability to control fire. Logan thought it to be cliché that the young man had red hair, icy eyes, and a fiery temper to match his ability to create and manipulate intense flames and heat. He didn't say much, settling to remain in a silent scowl than to engage in any conversation with the others, which didn't bother the X-Man one bit.

The best-rounded of the students seemed to be Everett Thomas. With the ability to synch to any nearby mutant and use their mutant power as his own, Logan thought that he would have been the brashest one among the group. But the native of St. Louis was one of the sturdiest of the team, becoming one of the two appointed leaders. Always polite and observant, Logan could see why Emma and Sean spoke highly of him.

An enigma, Clarice Ferguson was also a member of Logan's team. Aside from the girl's unique features—lilac skin, dark lavender hair, pointed ears, eyes with no pupils, and strange markings on her face—she was noted as being a formidable fighter. Along with her varied teleportation abilities, she was a potential powerhouse for the team, falling somewhere between Monet and Everett.

Rich Cale was the wildcard of the bunch. Apparently a magic-user from England, the young man had a chip on his shoulder and a disdain for the very people he was supposed to help. Logan commended him on his focus, which was honed to defeat Emplate. However, no one knew exactly what that meant—was he destined to best the demon in battle or was the result intended to be much more permanent? He didn't seem like a killer, but Logan hoped that when the time came, Rich would do what needed to be done.

The last member of his team was Kiana Asahara, a Japanese girl with mystical powers. Logan heard that she could summon a sword from the palm of her hand and used powerful spells to augment her martial arts and swordplay. She too seemed level-headed and calm, despite being in the middle of Limbo. He suspected that she was a valuable asset to the team, being both a close-quarters combatant and ranged spellcaster.

His thoughts drifted back to their destination. The lopsided lighthouse seemed out of place within the landscape of Otherplace, also known as Limbo. Stuck beside a high-rising plateau, which the team now stood on, the dingy white structure starkly contrasted the dark red clay of the ground and surrounding plateaus. The sky was neither bright nor dark, instead a hazy glare, keeping visibility to no more than fifty feet away.

The Blue Strike Force was teleported to a discreet area near the fortress, nestled between two high-rising cliffs. It was impossible to see the initial rally point from any of the building's opaque windows, making it the perfect spot for planning purposes. From there, they had a clear view and path directly to the target, which at first glance, seemed the most obvious and simple way to go.

It seemed that their task was straightforward—infiltrate the fortress from another entrance, separate from Scott and his team. Logically, a flanked intrusion would spread Emplate's forces in an attempt to stop both teams at once. With their skill and teamwork, it was almost a guarantee that they would triumph in that situation, then both teams could confront Emplate at once. But Logan had been around long enough to know that a plan that easy and simple never turned out that way.

Jubilee eyed a winding pathway to the towering structure. "So, all we gotta do is like make our way ta Emplate's stomin' grounds an' check tha place out? Easy breezy!" Her optimistic attitude wasn't shared by her old mentor, who kept his natural frown etched on his face.

Logan sniffed a few times, a deliberate use of his enhanced olfactory senses. There was a combination of brimstone, smoke, and old animal scent lingering in the air. He ignored the distinctive smells of those around him, discerning a mere whiff of something else familiar, but somehow different. "Not so fast, kiddo," he cautioned. "Somethin's out there."

The warning gave Jubilee pause, as she surveyed the area again, this time with much more scrutiny. Her chestnut eyes paused critically on any place that could even remotely be a hiding place—the corners around the textured cliffs, the shadowy areas behind other land masses, the unlit areas around the lighthouse. And in each location, an ever-so-slight movement caught her eye.

"Lots of somethings," Rich added as if he was looking through his teammate's eyes. Though he didn't have enhanced senses, he did have a sixth sense for detecting magical influence and presence. While the others had to see, hear, and smell their enemies, he could simply _feel_ them and have complete awareness of their existence.

Being in a magic-based realm like Otherworld almost caused him sensory overload, but he adjusted quickly out of necessity. Being the only Arcanist on the team, he had to stay focused and strong, especially if the rest had to rely on his abilities to find an artifact tied to Emplate's power. He kept his reservation and annoyance to a minimum, instead focusing on his goal—to find and defeat Emplate.

"What're you seein'?" Logan asked, while his eyes scanned the dark recesses of the cliffs around them. The landscape had shifted to a more sinister tone, teeming with undulating shadows and faint growls from somewhere hidden.

Though not as strong as Rich's sense, Kiana also felt the foreign malevolence around them. But she also was keenly aware of the same feeling she had in the police station. "The Emplates—they're here too."

Everett stood next to Logan, studying the landscape as well. "We should drop back before they figure out we're here."

Agreeing with the logic, Logan led his charges back to the secluded pocket nestled between high cliffs, hoping to formulate a viable plan that kept them out of danger as much as possible. He completely understood Emma's perspective—children shouldn't have the onus of fighting monstrosities. He didn't particularly agree with Scott's notion of allowing the students to fight, and now that he saw Emplate's ruthless tactics with his own eyes, he honestly didn't want to put them in a position where they had to face-off against an enemy that had no qualms about killing them. He resolved to have a little discussion with the boy scout. In the meantime, they didn't have much of a choice.

The team gathered around him, and he addressed them with a gruff whisper. "Listen up, we're here ta find Emplate, and it doesn't look like we're gonna find it without a few fights. I don't want any of ya ta run out there half-cocked. Stay close, fight only if ya need ta. Stay alert. Stay alive. Any questions?"

"Yeah," Vincent said with a challenging tone.

Of all the young mutants, Logan already spotted the young man as being the specific one he was talking to. Redheads were always trouble—he found that out the hard way several times over. "What d'ya want?"

The young man's piecing icy eyes met Logan's then locked on something above them. "What do we do when the Emplates find us?"

Logan snapped his head upward just in time to see a few Emplates dive from the cliff above straight toward them. _Snikt!_ His claws extended without a moment's notice, and he bared his teeth with a low, threatening growl. "We give 'em what they want—a fight. Game time, kids!"

III.

"Why can't these demons ever unleash their bad-guy schemes in Miami? Or some foreign countryside with lots of green, blue skies, and sun?" Rico Vidal rhetorically asked. He glanced around, both shocked and amazed at the landscape. It seemed like a great idea to teleport to another dimension to face a powerful enemy, but now that they had crossed over, it was an entirely different story.

The ground and surrounding hills appeared to be comprised of a foreign rock colored with varying shades of dark reds and browns. But instead of a sky, the rocky ground engulfed them all around as if they were deep inside a cavern. A warm breeze came from all directions, carrying with it distant screams, growls, and the metallic, stinging odor of fresh blood.

"Emplate needs a new travel agent," he decided, nodding his head affirmatively to reinforce his statement. He let his levity take over, replacing the churning fear that had settled in his stomach.

Though usually amused with Rico's witty banter, Lily Madison didn't chuckle along with the others. A growing discomfort kept her on guard, and the atmosphere was stifling. She attempted to hide her trepidation...there was a serious situation, and it required them to be strong and heroic. But she didn't feel that way in the slightest. She was the youngest team member, which made her the most inexperienced, with an ability that seemed more benign than offensive. Well, until she got angry. There was another, dark version of her power deep inside, waiting for the right moment to reveal itself. Being in a place like this stirred and excited the evil hidden deep within her, and it wanted out again.

Lily steadied herself, instead turning her attention toward the present circumstances. She closed her emerald eyes, relaxing her body and mind. Calmly, she pushed the internal struggle away and altered her concentration.

"There's lots of pain and suffering here," she commented after opening her eyes, scouring the unfamiliar and inherently dangerous land around her.

Gaia Sophronia kept close to the rest, as she asked, "You can feel it too?" She was still getting used to her sometimes overwhelming empathic abilities and thought that she was the only uncomfortable one within Otherworld. She wasn't relieved that her teammate was apprehensive as well, but it validated that there was something utterly sinister about their current location.

Abruptly, a stepping disk opened, and Amanda Sefton stepped into the scene, having heard the conversation.

"Amanda, thanks for joining us," Bishop greeted. Her abrupt entrance didn't surprise him, considering. He was more thankful that they had another powerful team member that understood magic and Limbo.

However, Rico didn't share the same sentiment as Bishop, his mistrust and displeasure plainly evident. "Umm, I thought you were near-death just a bit ago. You know, after you almost killed us in your star of destruction."

"I did what I had to," Amanda replied with no remorse. "My vitality has recovered, my strength returned. I shall aid you as much as I can." She scanned the group, stopping on Lily. There was something peculiar about the young blonde that she couldn't quite figure out. It wasn't any overt quality, but she could simply feel the semblance of a foreign magic aura from the girl. At the same time, there was another _something_ there. Ambiguous. Potentially dangerous. Unsure if Sean and Emma were aware, she vowed to ask them about the girl's past.

In response to the previous conversation she interrupted, she said, "Yes, this place—it is not for the weak-hearted."

Lily spun, her long, blond locks swaying in the hot breeze. She cocked her head curiously, her emerald eyes suddenly wiser than moments ago. "But you don't belong here either."

The response completely caught the sorceress by surprise. She narrowed her eyes at the young girl, displeased with her frank observation. "My presence within this realm is none of your concern, child."

"I'm sorry," she apologized, cheeks red. "I didn't mean to upset you."

Bishop turned his attention to the conversation. "But she's right," he said to Amanda, "you don't belong here anymore than we do."

He only knew snippets of the woman's past as a previous member of Excalibur, a mutant team within the X-Men family who sometimes operated out of Muir Island. It honestly surprised him to encounter her as the ruler of Otherworld, unable to bridge the gap between the team's dissolution and the present. Regardless, he knew her to be a kind soul, one of the most unlikely candidates to rule a demonic realm.

Amanda suddenly seemed melancholy, as if the comments reminded her of a past life forever lost. "Some of us do not get to choose our role in this life and beyond."

"It's not all roses for us either," Angelo mentioned, reflecting on his own hardships. His previous life wasn't complicated because of being a mutant—it was complex because of the gangs and violence within his neighborhood. Though he joked with Jono and Rico most often, he still harbored hardened feelings regarding his outlook on life.

Bishop noted the rising tension, probably agitated by the very nature of Limbo. "I think we all have had our difficulties," he stated, unemotionally. He had a tumultuous past as well, but didn't want to dwell. He needed everyone's head to be clear and focused—Scott left him in charge of the young team because he was capable of dispelling situations like this with relative ease. Bringing everyone back to the circumstance at hand, he continued, "And right now, Emplate our biggest challenge. Amanda, how close are we to the fortress?"

"Not too much farther. Taking the underground caverns is a longer distance by foot, but is much safer than traveling above ground. Warring factions of demons battle night and day above us. We should keep moving. Illyana made a beneficial strategic decision by teleporting you this far out from the fortress."

She led the way down a winding path etched into the side of a cliff. It would have been much easier to teleport to the foreign structure that appeared at the same time Emplate did. But they didn't want to risk detection, so Illyana created a stepping disk that planted them about two miles out from their destination. Though the other team teleported directly into the fortress, Amanda agreed that it was more practical to stagger their intrusion.

As they drew closer to the looming fortress, the stronger the foreign, magical energy became. They continued to walk, using treacherous, hidden paths to circumvent the outer perimeter guards. When they stopped again, they were a little more than a stone's throw away from the end point.

Their task from Scott seemed to be simple—save the townspeople in order to disrupt Emplate's power source. Because of the information her scouts had provided, they suspected that near the rear of the fortress there was a section, designed differently from the rest, that served as a prison of sorts. It had been noted that the energy level increased one thousand fold almost instantly and that the rear entrance was heavily guarded by Emplates.

Bishop ushered the team into a nearby cove, which gave them sufficient cover from the patrolling creatures. "Alright," he announced once they were all settled, "we have to infiltrate this place without alerting the guard dogs. I haven't seen any limitations in their numbers or any lag time in regeneration, so we could be facing thousands of those things if we're discovered. Plus, we'll potentially blow the other team's cover. Considering, the light patrol, they haven't been discovered either."

He wished he had either radio communications or strong telepaths at his disposal to keep the teams interconnected. But the charged environment of Otherplace disrupted all frequencies, and apparently, it caused some blockage for long-range telepathy. For the time being, he had to trust that everything was going according to plan.

Of course, experience had taught him better than that.

He took another glance around the rocky edge of the cove. Several Emplates were scattered about, either stationary or pacing over a tight area, their eyes continually searching for anything threatening or foreign. There were too many, about forty, to take them out—attacking a small group would draw the attention of the pack. An unnecessary scuffle could lead to bigger trouble.

He returned his attention to the group. They stood confident and energized, ready for whatever came next. He wasn't quite sure the logic behind the team composition, but for the moment, he was glad to have them.

Over the past few minutes, Tyson Sullivan had been conspicuously quiet. Not that he was talkative in the first place, but his mind had been racing since entering Otherplace. It's as if everything he had known had been turned completely upside down, thanks to his kidnapping by Emplate. In only twenty-four hours, he learned that the surrounding world was much more complicated and vast than he ever thought possible. And he learned that being a mutant wasn't an immediately ostracizing condition, although it made him a target and required him to push himself in ways he never dreamed.

Instead of taking a sideline seat, he opted to join a team comprised of the well-known X-Men and the student body of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, a remote campus long-rumored to be a training base for mutants. His rescue confirmed that the gossip was only partly true—those men and women with extraordinary powers utilized them for the benefit of society, not for its detriment. And as such, it felt right joining them in order to discover what actually happened to the townspeople and to prevent whatever plan this Emplate thing had in store.

The initial plan from Scott as he understood it seemed simple—infiltrate the mysterious fortress from the rear and investigate what he's hiding within its walls. He figured that they would find the townspeople or Emplate himself, but getting there would be the hard part.

Though he was the new guy and probably the least experienced, he still critically assessed the situation, using a bit of logic and problem-solving to devise a viable plan for getting them inside. One scheme would involve an all-out offensive, tearing through the roaming Emplates while rushing the facility. Another method would be to take a more defensive stance, sneak past the sentries, and access the facility without detection. Either way would take a concerted, combined effort amongst all of them.

Ty suggested, "Well, if we're sneaking in, maybe we can just split into smaller groups and make a quick dash for the entrance. I think we can sneak past the guards pretty easily." It was a bold suggestion, he knew, but if time was of the essence, they couldn't afford a lengthy battle.

Impressed, Bishop nodded in concurrence. "Okay. Next step—getting inside."

Amanda answered, "The entrance is on the ground level, marked by a set of descending stairs. It is probably sealed with magic—I should be able to use a spell to at least disrupt the barrier while we enter. Once inside, we should be safe. I can use a spell to mask our presence."

It was the easiest planning session that Bishop had ever been a part of. "Alright, sounds like a viable plan."

"So, we're jus' along for the ride?" Angelo asked.

"For the time being, yes," the X-Man stated. "Your close-combat skills are critical if we get into an altercation. But I also expect some quick, critical thinking from you...I read the report on how you and Ethan rescued Sean. And Lily, that goes for you too."

The two teens nodded.

Bishop checked his guns. "Alright, I guess this is where the rubber hits the road. Let's go." With that, he led his team of young mutants into a plan that would hopefully put them one step closer to changing his bleak future.

IV.

Shortly before everything went to hell, literally, and before Miranda Vaughn discovered that everything she knew up to this point was entirely wrong, she purposefully strode down the subbasement corridor, the harsh florescent light bathing the hallways in an antiseptic white. It was her turn to take Dr. Niles Cain, a former colleague turned prisoner, his daily dinner, so she carried in both hands the covered tray of grilled chicken, oven-roasted potatoes, crisp asparagus, and two whole grain dinner rolls. The aroma of the food was still enticing, though she had already eaten the same dinner an hour ago.

Though she wasn't fond of the Arminthorpe brothers, Lucas and Trent, when they wrestled control of the kitchen from the hired staff, they always produced a memorable meal, no matter what the selection. They had a knack for seasoning and combining various cooking methods to create a unique taste every single time, and between the kitchen and dining room is where the siblings lost their learned elitist attitudes, acting more like teenagers who enjoyed a life that didn't center around mutant powers or being the best. It was during those periods that Miranda enjoyed their company, but afterwards, the barriers would erect again, and she felt like an unwelcome stranger around them.

Tonight had gone well, but when the talk began to center around the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, she excused herself and cleared the table with the help of Casey Chamberlain and Leoni Dominic. There was only brief mention of the missing student, Craig Taylor, but Richard assured everyone that he was fine and that the headmasters of Xavier's were searching for him along with the others. It wasn't enough to ease her tension, but objecting wouldn't help at this point either.

She offered to take Leoni's duty of taking dinner to their sole prisoner for no particular reason but to see someone that wasn't engrossed in superiority or battling. When she arrived at the thick, metal prison door, she used her swipe badge to enter, which activated an impenetrable, yet translucent force field, separating her and Niles.

The high-tech prison impressed Miranda, though she didn't quite take to the idea of keeping one of their colleagues as a guest within its confines. The space was about eight feet wide and twenty feet deep with a private bathroom tucked away in the rear. The twin bed rested along the wall opposite the door, with a nightstand next to it, and a stiff chair close to the door. Though it was definitely a prison, it was comfortable, considering, and clean.

Niles watched as Miranda placed the food on the table, seeming to take extra care to make sure everything was perfect. He thought that she seemed to be taking longer than normal, as if expecting him to say something as she lingered. So he obliged.

"How long do you plan on keeping me here?"

Miranda paused for a moment, as she pondered whether to address him or not. When she turned around, her eyes burned into him. "I'm not the one keeping you here. You know that, Niles. Whatever fascination Richard suddenly has for you is what got you here."

He was surprised at her uncaring response, as if she condoned his kidnapping and subsequent imprisonment over the past few weeks. "You're better than that," he snapped, only acutely aware of his sharp tone. "You're not the type to just follow orders. What the hell is going on? Why is he acting like this? Why have you all suddenly turned me into the bad guy?"

Her shoulders sagged as if fatigue had suddenly hit her. She took a cleansing breath and blinked long before answering, "I don't know. What I do know is that he hasn't been the same. I can't put my finger on it, but something's—different. And wrong. And the others—they're just as bad. These Xavier kids are all that they talk about. I thought Richard knew what he was doing, but..." she trailed off.

Niles saw an opening. "Talk to me. We can figure this out—"

"You're not the same either," she stated, keeping her serious gaze locked on him. "You took off and those kids became your life."

"They're the next step in mutant evolution. Just like the kids at Xavier's. I was trying to get them away from each other. And away from Richard."

"Away? Why?"

"If Richard is amassing the most powerful, next generation of mutants, well, they're all in one spot for the taking. And it's just like you said, something changed in him. He developed a near-obsession with mutant genetics and these kids in particular. I don't know what would have happened to them if I hadn't shut down the program."

Miranda shifted her weight, pondering over his rationale. She had known Niles for years, so there was no reason to believe that he was lying. But if that was the case, then Richard was definitely hiding something. But what was it? What did it have to do with those kids and the ones at Xavier's? She couldn't answer those questions, but doubt began to creep into her mind about the whole circumstance.

"Niles, I—" she began, but a sharp alarm cut her off, startling her.

He stood, glancing at the ceiling for answers but getting none. To her, he asked, "The alarm...what's happening?"

"I don't know," she answered as she pulled out her phone. She made a quick video call to the control room and after a few rings, the other end picked up. Casey Chamberlain's visage appeared in the screen. Though usually calm-natured, he appeared panicked.

"Casey, what's going on up there?"

"We're getting attacked. These Emplate clones are looking for food, and we're next on their menu."

_Attacked?_ _An Emplate?_ She couldn't immediately discern what the hell an Emplate was, but it sounded dangerous. And hungry. Her heart raced as she jumped into action, intending on leaving the room immediately, but a call from Niles stopped her.

"Miranda. You've got to let me out of here."

"Are you seriously asking me to do that? You know that I can't. Besides, you're probably safer in here than out there."

"This isn't just about me anymore. Everyone's in danger. I can help."

Miranda contemplated letting him out. On one hand, she could trust him, free him, and have a powerful comrade to go against the intruders. On the other, she could set him free, and he could turn around and betray her, using his powers to escape. The latter sounded like it could happen, but she knew him better than that.

Before she could decide, a hissing noise grabbed her attention. She spun to glimpse a sleek, unnatural creature sprinting towards the cell. "Oh my god," she gasped. Immediately, she hit the panel to release the force field surrounding Niles.

It leapt at her, but Niles was suddenly there, blocking the attack, then throwing the monster to the side without much effort. Despite his displayed strength, he grabbed her hand gently and held onto it as they dashed down the hallway. She chanced a glance behind them, and noticed five more _things_ running toward them, moving inhumanly fast, closing the gap with alarming speed.

"Niles?!" she exclaimed as the one in front hurled itself towards them.

In a smooth motion, he stopped, turned, pulled Miranda behind him, and landed a solid punch on the creatures unprotected jaw. The strike slammed it into the side wall, where it fell to the ground, dazed but not down. The other three pounced on Niles, while the last one went for Miranda.

Tapping into his fledging abilities, his speed and strength gave him a clear advantage over the creatures, who only focused on speed and vicious attacks. He used his judo and boxing skills to take all three out quickly, before dispatching the other one that had arisen during the fray. He turned to help Miranda, but he was glad that she whipped her leg around with a devastating kick that would have probably taken off a normal man's head.

"Impressive," Niles gave her a nod.

"I always have been," she replied before falling behind him as they raced to the elevators. "Those things, they must have breached the perimeter. If they're down here, we're in a lot of trouble."

They stopped abruptly when everything around them melted away. Like a fading dream, things that should have been solid and unchangeable morphed into an indoor cavern, the crimson dirt and rock taking the place of the sanitary, steel environment.

Miranda pulled close to Niles, her concerns about him long-forgotten. "Oh my—what's happening?"

As he looked around, he could only deduce that somehow, the building had merged with some other dimension, which probably had to do with the presence of the Emplates. But there were plenty of unanswered questions right next to the amazement that a cross-dimensional merger was entirely possible and quite easy.

"We're not in Kansas anymore," Niles said.

Looking around, noting the distant screams, she quietly replied, "I don't think we ever were."

Notes:

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional


	44. Emplate's Revenge, Part 12

I.

The battle with the attacking Emplates was fierce but swift. The teenagers, led by James "Logan" Howlett, the X-Man known as Wolverine, effectively worked together to subdue the rogue pack of creatures that stumbled upon them. Using a combination of hand-to-hand tactics and timely, effective uses of various mutant powers, they overcame the onslaught without much effort or injury. After defeating the aggressors, they stealthily reached their destination, Emplate's fortress, without further incident.

The heavy, unlocked oak door opened with several resistant creaks and moans. Logan cautiously pushed open the door, keeping his senses on high alert. He was welcomed by a dark entryway and ominous silence, broken only by his own light breaths and quieted footsteps as he led the way. He motioned for the others to follow only after he was sure the area was clear, although after their skirmish, there was no way that Emplate didn't know they were there and probably had a trap waiting for them.

"This place is like way yuck," Jubilation Lee commented as she waved away the musty air. With a look of disgust, she followed her teammates into the entryway, which opened into a large greeting room. Farther in, a living room furnished with worn couches, stained tables, and faded paintings adorned the rather large area. She glanced around disapprovingly. "So, like what are we hoping ta find here? This doesn't look like any place that he'd like imprison anybody."

"You're right," Everett Thomas agreed. He previously imagined the inside of the fortress to be something like a medieval torture chamber with metal devices meant to inflict loads of pain scattered about. Yet, he shared in Jubilee's assessment...and surprise. He continued to scan the room, unable to note anything that would scream crazy-mutant-demon. Aside from being dusty and cluttered, it didn't seem any different than some old timer's residence, filled with furniture and items amassed over several decades.

Rich Cale surveyed the area, frowning. Like Everett and Jubilee, he too envisioned a totally different scene when they entered. Instead, it was more like someone's unkempt home. Though it was possible that they were in the living quarters—even evil mutants needed somewhere to sleep at night. Still, it was far from where the townspeople would be held prisoner, but something else came to mind.

"In my studies of Emplate," Rich said to the group, "like most demons of his kind, there's an artifact connected with his power. Chances are, it's housed somewhere within. If we can find that and destroy it, we'll be able to indirectly weaken Emplate."

Logan nodded, familiar with the concept of a physical anchor of power, since he had encountered many enemies who had the same weakness. "Ya got any idea what we should be lookin' fer?" he asked.

Rich ran his fingers through his dark hair, easily recalling the item due to his eidetic memory. "It should be something like a crystal. Complicated design. Bright and shiny. If you happen upon it—"

"Like smash it to bits?" Jubilee asked as more of a suggestion.

"Precisely."

Sharing Logan's earlier apprehension, Kiana Asahara said, "We entered his domain much too easily. If he's that powerful, there's no way he would leave something that important unguarded."

"Good point, kid. I need everybody ta stay on yer toes. Don't go anywhere by yerself," Logan directed. The teens nodded, then set about investigating the immediate surroundings, leaving him by himself momentarily. He sniffed the air deliberately, pausing as he caught a whiff of something foreign and wrong. He glanced over his shoulder at the teens still congregating in the main area. He figured that he could search quickly without alerting the others, keeping them at least in a place where they weren't in immediate danger.

But he barely took a step into the darkened hallway before he heard someone behind him.

"Didn't you say not to go anywhere by yourself? I'm going with you," Everett announced, leaving no room for argument.

"So am I," said Clarice Ferguson, trailing close behind Everett.

Logan paused, prepping himself to assert his authority, but the determined glare from both teens made him reconsider. "Jus' stay behind me," he gruffly ordered, as he started back down the hallway. The two teens silently obeyed, keeping up with his pace as they ventured farther and farther way from the others.

Back in the main room, the foursome split apart, leaving Jubilee with Rich and Yvette, while Kiana and Vincent went the opposite way, disappearing around a corner. Jubilee led the way as they investigated a short hallway that led to a smaller, similarly furnished room. Once inside, Yvette seemed to be interested in everything, peering over everything curiously.

Rich watched her, intrigued by her demeanor and child-like interest in things around her. "What's the story with Penance, as you call her?" he asked.

Jubilee remembered the details of her teammate's arrival, causing her smile to melt into a pensive frown, as she explained, "Her real name's Yvette. Emplate was usin' her as food, like draining her fer years. I'm not sure how he got her, but Gateway, this little teleportin' dude, brought her ta us. She can't talk, but she's been like slowly comin' out of her shell, ya know?"

"So she can't change back?"

"We're not sure. Hank's tests were like inconclusive. But he thinks that she could like learn ta' transform back and forth, and he thinks that the trauma of bein' with Emplate is keepin' her from changin' back. Mikey and Hayseed mentioned that her skin totally looked softer. Maybe she's finally like gettin' past what happened. I'm keepin' an eye on her, but I don't wanna like rush it, ya know?"

Rich crossed his arms, displeased with the explanation, letting it show with a disdainful tone. "Why didn't some of your psychics simply make everything better?"

Jubilee clucked disapprovingly. "Dude, you have got ta be kiddin'. Like listen, it may have been terrible, but it's made her a stronger person. No one's got the right to take that away. And I don't think she would want it. Professor X is always talkin' about tha mind bein' all delicate and stuff. Erasing memories or tryin' ta fix her or whatever might mess her up."

Before she could chastise him for being dumb, she noticed Yvette lingering near the doorway. "Penny, don't like wander too far off," Jubilee warned, then turned her attention back to Rich. "Like dude, yer attitude is real stank..."

_"Yvette."_

The whispered call startled the young girl, and she perked up in response. But as she scanned the room, it was apparent that Jubilee and Rich were engaged in a heated conversation and had not called out to her. Unnerved yet curious, she scanned the room for another presence...someone who she didn't recognize that would match the raspy voice, but didn't discover anyone new in the immediate area.

The voice almost forgotten, she then noticed a door down the darkened hallway open just slightly, the darkness beyond beckoning to her.

_"Yvette."_

Though a feeling of peril nagged, her investigative, curious nature overpowered it, and she timidly made her to the hallway, only throwing a quick glance at her teammates before approaching the door. Pulling it open carefully, she slipped outside into a covered courtyard area, her azure, pupil-less eyes searching the front area for her summoner. As there seemed to be no one there, disappointment set in, but there was also a hint of relief. She felt something ominous about her name being called by an unseen player, and she quickly deduced that nothing good could have come from solving the mystery.

But just as Yvette turned to head back inside, she stopped.

_ "Yvette."_

The whisper was now more urgent and longing, enticing the young mutant into the dark recesses of the grounds, deeper into dark surroundings and farther away from her companions.

_ "Yes, come closer..."_

Hypnotized with interest, she ventured farther, never really sure if she was getting closer to the voice, until an icy, firm grip took hold of her shoulder...

"Jus' don't get all judgmental on us. You like don't even know any of us..." Jubilee's hands were firmly on her hips, and she kept her eyes locked on him, intent on getting her point across. It infuriated her even more that Rich just stood there, smug and nonchalant, unresponsive to anything she said.

Before she could continue to berate him further, Kiana and Vincent bounded around the corner. They stopped short of the arguing duo, and their panicked expression made Jubilee forget her ire with Rich. All steam lost, she instead focused on her teammates. "Like what's wrong? Did somethin' happen?"

Kiana explained, "I felt something—I don't know what it is, but I think we're in serious trouble. We can't find Wolverine, Everett, or Clarice. We looked around without venturing too far before finding the both of you," she explained, then glanced around. "Where is Yvette?"

Jubilee's heart skipped a beat as she visually searched the room. "She was jus' here with us. I like told her not ta wander off." She cursed herself for getting caught up with Rich—she should have kept more attention on the young mutant. If Emplate was nearby, there was no doubt that the young girl was in imminent danger.

Still annoyed, Rich shot, "If you weren't so busy giving me a hard time, you could have kept a better eye on her."

"Save it, unless you wanna like eat fireworks," she snapped, with a glare that could have killed him on the spot. "Yer attitude is really gettin' ta me." She turned to Kiana and asked, "Can ya take royal pain in tha ass an' like check outside? I'll check the rest of tha place fer Ev, Blink, and Wolvie. Hothead here can search with me."

"Agreed." Kiana nodded to Vincent, hoping that he too didn't get into an argument with Jubilee. Leading the way, she strode back into the hallway, taking a turn in the opposite direction from where they initially came, unknowingly taking the same path Yvette had only minutes ago.

She advanced with caution, her eyes darting all over for any visible or immediately unseen potential danger. Rich wasn't too far behind her, keeping the same pace, being surprisingly quiet. She couldn't believe that in a span of no more than ten minutes, they had lost half of their team in a realm that wasn't their own, with the enemy they were pursuing looming near them.

Taking notice of a door, she gave Rich a glance before going through, ending up in a covered courtyard. The stone walkway was wrought with dead weeds, while more dead flora lined the sides and hung from the walls and ceiling. But before she could say something about the décor, she spotted Yvette in a far corner of the courtyard.

"Penance!" Kiana excitedly called, slowing her pace to gentle advancing steps. "Yvette, we were just searching for you! I'm so glad you're..." her voice trailed off as she noticed the young girl had an unreadable expression etched into her softening face. As the scene came into focus, she noticed a clawed hand resting on Yvette's shoulder. The hand disappeared into the shadows, keeping the intruder's identity a mystery.

"Show yourself!" Rich demanded, taking an aggressive step forward.

The shadows melted away, revealing Emplate standing behind Yvette, grinning at the two teens. They immediately stepped into an aggressive fighting stance but held their ground since Yvette was in a precarious position.

"This girl," Emplate's gravelly voice echoed off the walls, adding a dramatic effect to his address, "I have tasted her. She belongs to me, just as your friends do."

Kiana shook her head in staunch opposition. "You're wrong. Let her go!" She knew the monster wouldn't be reasonable, but considering his power, it was senseless to engage him immediately in a fight. And there was no way to get the others in time.

"Coward!" Rich seethed. "You attacked Cartier when he was defenseless, and now you're attacking a defenseless girl. Let her go, and test your might against someone like me."

Emplate responded with a hearty guffaw. "Don't make me laugh, Cale. You are many millennia too young to defeat me."

"We'll see about that!"

Moving precisely, Rich clasped both his hands together, and at the moment of impact, a flash of flames erupted from the space in between. The flickering fire illuminated the area with an intense orange, red, and amber glow, casting away the darkness around them. He then pulled his hands apart, revealing the emergence of a sword, birthed from the summoned flames, and with determination, he grasped the handle, wielding his heritage—a mystical sword passed down through the generations. He waved off the excess flames, then stepped forward into an offensive position.

Emplate laughed. "Do you honestly believe you stand a chance against me? Your father thought so too..."

"You have no right to speak of my father, demon. My sole purpose in life right now is to destroy you, and I refuse to fail."

Kiana took Rich's cue, extending her right hand to the side. The Matsumura Sword, her inheritance, erupted from her hand, point first, shooting outward until fully exposed. She quickly grabbed the handle of the two-handed sword and repositioned herself into a stance that supported an offensive sword strike. "For the sake of this world, we will not lose to you."

Emplate narrowed his eyes, studying the duo momentarily. "Interesting. Two magic-wielders against a god. Numbers are not on your side."

"Be careful. He's dangerous," Rich quietly warned.

Kiana curtly replied, "And here I thought he was just flirting with me."

Ignoring her response, he asked, "You ready for a two-front attack?"

"Now!" Kiana commanded. Summoning the powers of her sword, she slashed in a wide arc, creating a brilliant crescent of light, propelled through focused momentum towards Emplate's head. As expected, the light attack collided with an invisible shield a few feet in front of Emplate. But her purpose was only to create an opening for Rich, who immediately seized the advantage.

Emboldened, he dashed in low, sword drawn behind him for a physical strike. "Got you!" he gloated, anticipating a blood-letting impact. His first desire was to incapacitate Emplate or at least injure him enough to allow Yvette an opportunity to wriggle from his grasp. But the flawless swipe hit nothing but air as Emplate phased he and Yvette to the other side of the courtyard, rematerializing only a moment later.

At this point, Emplate could have easily teleported back to his fortress with his prize in tow. However, his lust for toying with these teens overcame his sense of logic and self-preservation. Nearly forgetting about Yvette, he locked onto the two mutants, who now faced him from the opposite side of the courtyard, preparing to unleash a wave of mystical energy. Seconds before he attacked, pressure and pain erupted in his abdomen, surprisingly. He glanced down to find that his seemingly timid prisoner had jabbed her claws into his midsection.

The act was significant in the fact that the young girl had never previously attacked him. Never aggressive or assertive, the meek girl simply accepted her fate of being sustenance. Something had changed—his mutant morsel was now a dangerous foe, filled with emotion and motivation only she understood. And that only made him want her more.

"Well, played, but futile," he smiled down at the girl, before a omni-directional pulse cast Yvette away, her body crumpling into an unmoving heap on the ground.

"Yvette!" Kiana cried, alarmed that the girl didn't move.

"Bastard!" Rich screamed through gritted teeth as he closed the gap and unleashed a flurry of slashes that left a wake of fire with every swing. Emplate faced him head on, blocking or dodging every attack, which only enraged the young man. But Kiana appeared from behind, launching complimentary attacks to Rich's, causing Emplate to have to block or dodge both of them at once. His speed surprised them as neither one of them landed an attack.

Though the fight filled him with excitement, he could feel his vitality waning, a sign that he needed to feed. "My time is short. This ends now," Emplate stated. He unleashed a surprise energy blast that blew Rich across the courtyard, while a pulse from his eyes signaled a psychic attack that Kiana was unprepared for. She grasped her head as a flash of pain blinded and paralyzed her, then everything went black. Triumphant, Emplate retrieved his prize, noting that Rich stirred in protest, a glint of hate cast towards the mutant.

With Yvette cradled in his arms, Emplate gloatingly laughed as he phased from existence, watching until the last moment when Rich succumbed to his injuries and fell unconscious.

II.

"The townspeople...they're...dead..." Ty Sullivan stammered as he stared disbelievingly at the populace of Snow Valley, strewn about the large, cavern-like room, some on the floor, some affixed to the walls, some dangling in midair, and others attached to the ceiling. Men, women, and children all positioned awkwardly and lifelessly still, their eyes shut to the horror of their surroundings.

The townspeople dangled from tentacle-like appendages, which latched themselves onto any place of exposed skin. A synchronized pulse of light was drawn from the imprisoned people into the appendage, then was whisked into a large, pulsating organism in the middle of the room.

Gaia's dark eyes panned over the scene before them, immediately reminded of her imprisonment as a safeguard for the Universal Amalgamator. Failing to age, she spent thousands of years chained to it, her mission there long forgotten. She was helpless, just like the townspeople before them.

She put her hand to her mouth, horrified. "By the gods, I—I have never witnessed such a thing. Are they...alive...?"

Amanda Sefton felt life essence emanating from each person, but it wasn't nearly as strong as it should have been. "Yes," she firmly answered for the group. "But barely. Emplate has been feeding from them, using their energy to fuel his power. But this place...I thought it was just a building. But this entire thing is connected to him. The thing in the middle, it's like an organ, feeding Emplate these people's energy."

Lily looked on in horror, realizing the pure evil it took to use people as nothing more than a source of energy. Then again, they were dealing with a monster, someone no longer human that had no qualms about killing innocent people. She realized that she recognized some of the victims, but she froze when she saw Olivia Stine, Alyssa's mother, plastered to the wall, her face frozen in a scream.

"We—we have to free them," she declared, her voice quivering.

"We must if we hope to save their lives," Amanda answered. She studied Lily once again, as if she knew something more about the girl that hadn't already been said. But instead of revealing some hidden truth, she stated, "But I cannot do this alone...I will need your assistance."

_A powerful sorceress asking me for help?_ Lily wanted to be flattered, but she was also embarrassed and frightened. There was no way that her enigmatic, light-based power would be of any assistance to someone who ruled an entire realm. Her cheeks flushed as she asked, "What can I do?"

"More than you think. This will be a combined effort, so you all will have to do more than you ever thought possible. Lily, you must reabsorb the life force from the organ and return it to the people. Bishop, when I give the word, you must destroy that thing with one shot. I shall use a stepping disk to send all of them back to Snow Valley. Without the townspeople, the Emplates will cease to exist."

"Sounds like a plan," Bishop agreed. Though it sounded simple, he anticipated some kind of complication at some point. He just hoped it occurred after they rescued the townspeople. Turning to Ty, he asked, "Static, right?"

"Ummm...yeah, sure," Ty replied uncertainly. He hadn't really thought of a codename, something that the rest of the students and adults seemed to have. But it wasn't really the time to debate or ponder over a catchy name suitable for a young hero who controlled lightning. So, he accepted the moniker for the time being.

"Listen, I'm going to need you to blast me with as much lightning as possible."

Ty's nearly clear eyes widened in shock. "Are you crazy?!"

"My power is to absorb and rechannel energy, which includes your lightning. I can shoot it with more accuracy and precision than you could."

He had a point. Ty's lightning streaked from his hands but not necessarily in a straight line. And more times than not, small spark tributaries lashed out from the main bolt, which would surely hit the townspeople if he used it now. It made sense, though the idea of striking a living person with his lightning seemed immoral—what if Bishop was wrong, and it killed him?

"Trust me," Bishop reassured the young man, noting Ty's hesitation. "I've been doing this a long time. It won't hurt me at all. Skin, Tempest, and Nascence, remain on standby. Once we free these people, we're probably going to get some unwanted attention. It may be up to you to take the front lines. Understood?"

"Got it, boss," Rico replied as the other two nodded in response. They distanced themselves as preparations began for the plan.

Ty took a deep breath and placed his hands on Bishop's back. "Physical contact will make this a little easier," he said, more for his own comfort than anyone else's. He felt a knot in his stomach as he tensed his muscles, then he mentally summoned lightning, letting it channel through his hands. The crackle of the bolts tore through the room, causing everyone to cover their ears as deep thunder shook everything.

Bishop felt the energy building within his body as it absorbed and converted the lightning into its own expellable type of energy. He let it build for as long as he could until his skin began to burn hot, a signal that he was dangerously near the edge of his limit. But he only had one shot, and he couldn't chance it not being powerful enough to destroy the pulsating organ in front of them. He steadied himself for a few more moments, ignoring the pain.

He clenched his fists as he stepped away from Ty. With a grunt, he pointed his charged hands at the organ and released every bit of energy, which blasted forth as a brilliant, lavender-hued beam. It burned into the organ easily, sizzling through its thick outer layer of skin into the meaty inside. Bishop continued to channel his energy, gritting his teeth and still ignoring the pain. It wasn't until the energy punched through the other side that his eyes widened with excitement.

Amanda saw the sign too and turned immediately to Lily. "Now, child! Focus yourself, and absorb the energy!"

Lily's heart raced in anticipation, but once the moment arrived, she calmed. She understood what she had to do and how to do it. Extending he arms to the side, she closed her eyes and opened herself to absorb the escaping life energies. As the organ was destroyed the energy escaped as spheres of warm light, which then floated towards the young girl. As more lights escaped, they were drawn faster toward Lily, who began to glow herself.

Rico watched until his eyes couldn't withstand her luminescence, then he turned away and shielded his eyes. It wasn't until that moment that he questioned the safety of his teammate. He had never really seen her use her powers to that extent, and if she exerted herself too much, she usually fell unconscious. This was way beyond her normal capabilities, and he wasn't sure what would happen to her or the townspeople if she couldn't handle it.

"Lily?!" he called, realizing as it came out that his voice was lost in the almost melodically hypnotizing crescendo of the sound produced by the speeding lights. It was too late for second thoughts or regrets. His heart and mind raced as he waited to see just what would occur.

In the center of the scene was Lily, concentrating as the life essence of the townspeople flowed into her. Surprisingly, she held it without much trouble at all as it continued to build, increasing the warmth through her entire body. The feeling was amazing, but she realized the danger of embracing such a feeling for too long as thoughts of keeping it all for herself began to emerge.

She opened her eyes to see the last of the energy flow into her, then using her own powers of healing, she cast them out, pinpointing every person now laying on the floor. The wave traveled swiftly and washed over the fallen, instantly healing all wounds and bringing them back to consciousness.

With the task accomplished, Lily spun with a gratified smile on her face. She had never even attempted to absorb energy in that manner or successfully healed that many people at once. She then realized there was more to her strange power than she realized. Hopefully, she would be able to explore more of her abilities once things returned to normal.

"She—she did it!" Rico cheered from the back as the townspeople began to stir.

"I had no doubt she would," Amanda said with a nod and smile towards the young girl. "Now, we send them back through time to the point where they left." With a gesture from both of her hands, thousands of stepping disks appeared and the awakening population sank away slowly, returning back to their respective locations within Snow Valley.

"We saved the townspeople! Totally badass!" Rico cheered. His excitement spread to the others as they slapped each other celebratory high-fives with huge grins of satisfaction. Even Bishop and Amanda smiled, giving each other a knowing acknowledgement. But both of them knew this wasn't the end of the road, and when darkness surrounded them, they readied themselves for the fight ahead.

"You shouldn't have done that," a baritone voice stated from somewhere in the surrounding darkness. Dramatically, two incandescent eyes appeared, with the fuming, glowing energy trailing from the corners. As the figure advanced, the shadows melted away to reveal Kurt Pastorius, the mutant known as Refrax.

The young man grinned evilly, his disheveled, dark hair swayed by the energies cascading around them. He strode toward them confidently, bolstered by his two companions, Shift and Murmur, who approached alongside him. The trio had matching eyes and equally menacing intent, staring at the team as if they were morsels of ambrosia, begging to be savagely devoured.

"No," Amanda crisply retorted, with an edge to her voice that caused them to halt. Her piercing eyes flicked over the three teens, obviously overtaken by Emplate's influence. "The mistake was you deciding to serve Emplate. You're simply a tool, and once he's finished with you, he'll dispose of you as he has done for many centuries."

Shift laughed. "This world is at its end. Emplate will remake everything, creating a paradise for us, while keeping traitors like you in the pens as food for the rest of us."

"You know," Rico thoughtfully replied, "I've been eating a lot of broccoli and asparagus, so I probably taste a bit sour." Though the wrong time for humor, he appreciated that a few mouths cracked a slight smile at his effort towards a bit of levity. But he, like the others, knew that they weren't getting out of this situation without a fight.

Bishop disagreed with Shift's statement and shook his head as further clarification of his dissention. "I've seen the future. And it's not pretty—I won't allow it to happen."

Refrax dismissed the protests with a wave of his hand. "You have no choice. We will serve him to the death!"

The almost lunatic dedication surprised Lily. She never thought that someone would willingly jeopardize their lives to serve someone so evil. And if his stance was that strong, the outcome of a physical confrontation seemed wrought with death and destruction, something she and the others were fighting against. "But you don't have to do this...we can help you," she pleaded as a last-ditch attempt to avoid the oncoming conflict.

"There is nothing you can do but die!" he exclaimed, baring his teeth in a crazed laugh. A wide beam of energy shot from his eyes with the intent of overtaking and incinerating his opponents. But Bishop was already two steps ahead.

He stepped in front of all the teens, taking the brunt of the attack, while absorbing as much as he could of the exotic energy. The plan didn't quite work as he thought—Refrax could conjure and project seemingly limitless blasts of energy at once, faster than Bishop could absorb it. The fiery attack made it past the X-Man, burning directly towards the team behind him.

Amanda assessed the situation almost immediately and responded just as fast. She summoned a mystical shield, using a rudimentary spell, which was strong enough to repel the additional energy with ease. Though she was in a prime position for an offensive maneuver, she opted to wait until Bishop revealed his plan, considering his notable tactician experience.

Bishop's skin rippled with lavender energy, converted from Refrax's attack. At his peak of absorption, he pointed both fists and rechanneled the energy as a destructive blast, directed right in front of Emplate's minions. As anticipated, the counterattack completely caught the enslaved mutants by surprise, blowing them right off their feet.

Refrax his head on the stone floor, dazing him for a moment, but he screamed through his disorientation, "Get them! Kill them!"

Bishop spat out orders quickly, "Nascence, Vortex, contain Shift. Skin, Static, take on Murmur. Magik, Lightwing...you're with me...we've got Refrax."

"I will gladly smite the cretins who dared invade our town and threaten the existence of these divine persons," Gaia pledged, her fist clenched as her powers rippled her pink ponytail. She noted Lily standing next to her, her light-based powers illuminating her entire body, while Rico summoned a tightly focused wind to lift himself into the air. She smiled in anticipation, realizing the gravity of the fight, but feeling confident that they would defeat their opponents.

In the next moment, the fight of their lives erupted.

III.

Logan stalked down the hallway, peering carefully at every shadow while keeping his senses keenly aware of any slight disturbance to the eerily silent atmosphere. Two students, Everett and Clarice, were several feet behind him, doing their best to follow his lead. But they hadn't gotten to the lesson of stealthy tactics, so they weren't the quietest of partners. They breathed too hard—stepped too firmly. Still, they were only dealing with Emplate, not the assassins and Hand ninjas Logan was used to, so their clumsy attempt would have to do for now.

He still wasn't quite used to being around teenagers. He had spent plenty of time with Kitty Pryde and Jubilee, but these kids were different. Experienced. Jaded. Angst-ridden. Nothing like the naïveté and innocence that the young women shared. So, his approach had to be different, but how do you deal with young men and women that had experienced things way beyond their years?

For the time being, he was content to observe the teens, see exactly how they interact with each other and how they handle themselves. He had only overheard some of the other X-Men who doubled as teachers mention the students, their powers, their personalities, and their disposition. Now, he had the chance to see it firsthand, and honestly, he wasn't disappointed in the least. They managed to hold their own several times over, and the grasp they had over their abilities reminded him of the X-Men's Danger Room training sessions.

"Wolverine," Everett urgently whispered as he halted, "shouldn't we get back to the others? What are you looking for?" He held his breath, unsure of the reaction to his pointed questions. He hadn't had many interactions with Logan, but it was well-known that he was surly and hostile.

As expected, Logan responded, "I asked ya not ta follow me."

Clarice halted her advance as well, instantly annoyed by their leader's response. She didn't know anything about the X-Man, save what she had seen to this point. And honestly, she wasn't impressed. Intending to support Everett, she quipped, "And you said not to go anywhere by ourselves, which includes you."

He stopped his advance, facing the two teens. They had the same expressions of determination and focus that he had seen earlier and had enough gall to confront and question him. Appreciating their candor, Logan replied, "I smell somethin', and it's got Emplate's stench all over it. It could be tha artifact Rich mentioned."

"So were planning on going solo?" Clarice asked, not letting up.

"Listen, I'm trained fer this. I've been doin' this since yer grandparents were suckin' on bottle nipples. Yer all a bunch o' kids. Leave tha fightin' ta tha adults."

Everett frowned. "That's a great philosophy in a perfect world, but here, we don't have that choice. We never asked for crazed mutants to invade our school. And we never asked for them to attack the town. We're in this whether you like it or not. And whether we like it or not, we have to fight. No, that's not it...we choose to fight for people who can't fight for themselves. And we fight for something better than what's going on right now."

"Everything he said times two," Clarice said. "And if you don't like it, tough. We're teammates, and we're going to take this on together."

Logan smirked. "You kids got guts, I'll give ya that."

"Give it time...you'll give us plenty more than that," replied Clarice. Turning her attention toward the end of the hallway, she noted a door with foreign symbols that had no distinct meaning for her. "That door with the weird writing—you think the artifact is in there?"

Logan popped his claws, filling the hallway with a sharp _snikt_. "There's only one way ta find out."

"I figured you'd say that," she smiled, followed by the distinctive sound of a blink. The trio disappeared into a circular portal, its edges teeming with a pink-hued energy signature, teleporting them within a fraction of a second from the hallway into the space beyond the door. The dark, vast room was empty, save a floating crystal in the center, pulsating with its own light. It rotated slowly, held aloft by some invisible force and energized through some unknown means. Otherwise, the diamond-shaped jewel wasn't remarkable, and it didn't necessarily exude any kind of evil intent.

"That's got to be it, Emplate's crystal," Everett declared. He scanned the room, concerned. "But shouldn't there be some kind of guards or traps?"

Logan thought the same exact thing. However, he already knew the answer to the question. "Honestly, he didn't expect us ta get this far. And he's kept the crystal a well-kept secret. I don't remember anythin' about it in Hank's files. If Rich hadn't been here, we wouldn't know about it at all. That bein' said, his flunkies are out there fightin' the rest, so there's no one left to guard it."

Clarice shrugged. "Well, let's destroy this thing and—"

"That will not happen," Emplate's gravelly voice emerged from the darkness. He stepped forward with his hand extended, prompting the crystal to respond by floating to his hand. "You were correct, Wolverine. There are times when you mutants surprise me—those times are quite few and far in-between. My secret was not meant to be discovered, and this place was not to be intruded upon. But you have done both. However, I have reclaimed Yvette and now, I will protect the essence of my power."

"Reclaimed Yvette?!" Everett gasped. He recalled Yvette's lengthy imprisonment by Emplate, freed only by the intervention of Gateway. She stayed at the school for education and for protection against Emplate. But if he had somehow captured her, something must have happened to the rest of the team. "Where is she? What happened to the others?"

"Do not worry. I've spared you all many times over. I see potential in all of you that I do not see with the other mutants around me. Your abilities exceed those of previous generations of mutants. I would rather have you at my side than dead. But you continue to stand against me, and my patience is growing quite thin."

"Mutant god or not, yer really startin' ta piss me off," Logan bared his teeth, regarding Emplate with unbridled contempt. Not only had the madman endangered the teens countless times, but he was also responsible for kidnapping and torturing—acts that Logan would never forgive. And in his world, revenge was the only way to make amends. "I dunno what tha hell yer plannin', but it's gonna cost yer life if ya don't leave this kids outta it."

"You fool! You dare threaten me?"

"_Threaten_ implies a potential lack of follow-through," Logan closed the gap between them with inhuman speed, shoving his adamantium claws into Emplate's chest. "I always follow-through, bub."

Emplate surprisingly screamed in agony, unaware of the adverse chemical effect the metal would have on him. He generated a desperate omni-directional blast that threw Logan across the room, though the mutant flipped in mid-air and landed back on his feet. Dazed, Emplate felt warm blood trickling under his armor, and for the first time, felt pain. Something had happened...something was wrong. The lifeforce from the humans should have healed his wounds instantly and maintained his durability. But it hadn't. And if his vitality was in jeopardy, he definitely couldn't win a fight right now against the mutants.

But before Logan, Clarice, and Everett could take advantage of their momentary and unexpected leverage, a circle of light appeared from above, and Jubilee dived from it, followed by Vincent, Rich, and Kiana.

"Where tha hell is Yvette?!" Jubilee shouted. Without waiting for an answer, she clenched her fists, letting her anger take over. Around Emplate, small sparks of light appeared then suddenly exploded with the impact of several large-scale bombs, illuminating the chamber with a cascade of light while shaking the entire fortress to its foundation. The rear wall blew outward and a portion of the ceiling collapsed seemingly on top of Emplate.

"Jubes?" Everett asked, genuinely surprised at the destructive force behind her power. He had tapped into her power several times before and understood the devastating power she wielded. But this was the first time he witnessed Jubilee using it to that level herself.

"Not now, Ev. This creep has Yvette. My next move is to like take out limbs."

The dust on the opposite side of the room cleared, and Emplate stood amongst the debris with a smirk, hiding his weakening state. Until he discovered what had happened, he refused to reveal that his plan had faltered and that he was suddenly mortal again. "A formidable attack, Ms. Lee. Rich Cale and Kiana Asahara, still able to stand after our last encounter. Maybe I shouldn't have been so merciful. And Vincent, the brooding pillar of flame. It seems the rest of your team has joined you, Wolverine."

"You didn't answer the question—what have you done with Yvette?" Rich pointedly quizzed.

"She is where she needs to be. You knew nothing of her before she was laid on your doorstep by that interloping teleporter. I gave her a life when she had nothing left. She will forever belong to me."

Jubilee clenched her fists, her anger transforming into a glowing array of light emanating from her body, eradicating the darkness. "You're a monster, trying to justify hurting her. I—I'll kill you before you lay a finger on her ever again." Without hesitation, a cascade of lights shot from her entire body, bathing Emplate in an explosive, concussive force, blasting him through another wall, while eradicating anything that the light touched. When she pulled back her power, the only thing that remained was a charred path that her attack had traveled down, and a massive hole in the wall that was directly behind Emplate.

Still breathing hard, her face remained locked in unbridled hatred, as the light surrounding her dissipated. She felt a soothing hand on her shoulder—the gruff, heavy weight let her know it was Logan, hoping to calm her down. "I killed Emplate. Logan, I—I'm sorry. But Yvette—he was a monster. I couldn't let him hurt her again."

"Ya did what ya thought was necessary, kiddo," he quietly responded. She was too young to have blood on her hands in the name of self-defense or revenge.

"We must ensure the crystal is destroyed," Rich reminded the group. "Otherwise—"

"I will come back to life!" Emplate roared as he reappeared behind Vincent and Kiana. Before they could react, he slammed the red-haired mutant to the ground, putting his boot into his chest, while grabbing the young woman by the throat with an iron-like grasp. In his other hand, he held the crystal, seemingly undamaged by the attack. "No single impact or energy can damage my crystal, fools. And with it, I will be resurrected upon death."

Everett synched to Logan, realizing the only way to save his two teammates would be through hand-to-hand combat—any energy attack would run the risk of hitting and injuring Kiana and Vincent. When he synched to the X-Man, he felt his physique alter and muscle density increase, while he noted subtle biological changes, which would have been the healing factor kicking in. He felt a tingling in his forearms, realizing he had developed the same bone claws Logan had before the adamantium bonding.

"Let them go!" he commanded, before his bone claws tore through the top of his hands. Emplate pressed his boot harder, causing Vincent to squirm as he gasped for air. In his other hand, he tightened his grip on Kiana's throat. "Make another move, and I will kill them before you can blink."

"But not before I can!" Clarice shouted. She threw a teleportation dagger behind her, into a portal, which opened directly behind Emplate. The javelin struck Emplate in the middle of his back, splitting him into thousands of fragments, but contained the spatial displacement tuned to only Emplate's biological signature.

"Now!" Logan directed, sprinting forward. Along with Everett and Rich, they bombarded Emplate with a direct physical assault, while Jubilee and Clarice ushered Kiana and Vincent to the side to provide them protection while they recovered. The trio of hand-to-hand combatants lashed out at Emplate with all of their strength, using well-timed attacks and teamed offensive maneuvers to subdue their opponent, but Emplate seemed to be just seconds faster than them.

But the next critical wound came from Logan, who managed to flank Emplate, and feint a low attack but aggressively come through with a well-timed high slash to his upper back, which savagely tore through Emplate's torso. The trio stepped back, catching their breath while their opponent stumbled for a moment. He laughed as he fished for his sacred jewel to gloat over his looming resurrection. But the place that it should have been, it was not, and he panicked through his pain.

"My crystal!"

"Looking for this?" Clarice smiled as she held it in the air. "In case you didn't know, I can teleport an entire object or a specific part. So, when I hit you with my javelin, I teleported the crystal away from you into my possession. But now, I figure Rich can finally make his mark. Catch!" she said as she tossed it above her.

The crystal spun in the air, while Rich gestured with his hands. He called upon an ancient spell, recalled from the large volume of recorded magic within his possession. Realizing a direct, external attack could not destroy the gem, he instead used an incantation to create a miniscule black hole in the center, causing it to collapse upon itself until it simply ceased to exist.

"No!" Emplate growled as the reality of his defeat now loomed closer. His mortality was now sealed, changing the entire foundation of his plan. This was something totally unexpected, and now, his ambitions and scheme were falling apart. But he still had mutants under his enthrallment who he could use to sustain his power, which is what he intended to do.

"Demon, your resurrecting ability just abandoned you," Rich gloated. "And now, I will finish what I came here to do."

"This is not over yet—" Emplate said as he phased out of existence.

"That coward! He ran away again!" Rich complained.

Everett said, "He's got no other place to go. He's going to use Yvette to boost his power. They're somewhere in this fortress."

"If he like so much as touches her," Jubilee added, "I'll make what I did earlier look totally lame."

Logan assured her, "She's been hangin' around ya, so she'll figure it out, which'll give us time ta find her. An' I know we'll find her before Emplate gets ta her."

"I hope you're right, Wolvie."

On cue, a stepping disk appeared in the center of the room. Logan nodded to the others, knowing that wherever they needed to go next, the circle of light would take them there. Together, the team disappeared from the chamber, with two things on their minds: the rescue of Yvette and the final defeat of Emplate.

IV.

As the throbbing in his head subsided, Scott Summers stirred, the cold stone floor dragging him from unconsciousness. He gingerly rose into a sitting position, riddled with the normal aches and pains of an intense battle. A sharp pain in his side. A bruised thigh. Stiff arm. Nothing devastating. After years of engaging in fierce bouts, the X-Man quickly learned how to take an ass-kicking. He took a shallow breath, his concern now for the young students who had been beaten just as soundly, knowing they hadn't been through the same school of hard knocks.

He visually searched the room for the others, relieved when he witnessed all of them moaning and coming to life within minutes of his own recovery. He aptly deduced that the attack wasn't meant to debilitate them, only delay them, the realization incensing him. Not only that, but the villain seemed to have no qualms about inflicting harm upon teenagers.

_ This is exactly why Emma was against them being junior X-Men._

Many debates amongst the team ensued in regards to recruiting younger mutants into the school, which only tended to directly and indirectly involve them in life or death battles at any given moment. Despite attempts to safeguard the youngsters and the intention to teach them to utilize their powers for the good of society, they were drawn into battle, sometimes simply due to proxy and other times due to personal dealings to connections to villains. Scott viewed the conflicts as inevitable, citing the lack of discrimination by their enemies in regards to age, Emplate being a prime example. Conversely, Logan argued that they were making soldiers from children and vehemently expressed his lack of support for anything otherwise.

At the same time, it was because of evildoers like Emplate, who were willing to sacrifice anyone for their own personal agenda, that mutant teenagers were almost forced to become warriors, leaving behind the comfort and security of being an innocent bystander. Scott wished that the world worked differently, that these lively teenagers had the chance to be just that—teenagers. But being a mutant complicated things. And villains hellbent on non-mutant subversion and world domination made it impossible to be disengaged.

Finally feeling sturdy enough to stand, Scott did so. A light fog of disorientation still clouded his mind but faded fast. He glanced around, cleared his throat, and ordered, "Status check."

Upon hearing the command, Jason Tate responded first. "I feel like my brain was put in a blender and poured back into my head. Other than that, I'm okay." He ran his fingers through his dark hair, feeling more internally shaken than he let on. This event exposed a weakness that he had never considered, and the situation seemed to escalate in danger, leaving him wondering what would happen when they faced Emplate again.

Graylon Walsh sat on the floor, frowning, as he rubbed the back of his head. "If that guy can hit us with something like that, we don't stand a chance. And yeah, I'm good."

"Marvel here," Michael Lawson replied, more focused on his teammate's comment. He was right—if Emplate could just continually wipe them out with a _deus ex machina_ attack that always rendered everyone in sight unconscious, then they really couldn't defeat him. It seemed quite ludicrous, actually, but if that was what they had to face, then as the most formidable telepath of the team, he had to be ready to protect himself and his teammates the next time.

Monet St. Croix, already to her feet, responded, "My ire notwithstanding, I am fine." She tossed her silken, jet black hair, as if the whole circumstance were just an annoying interruption. Like Jason, she appeared calm and collected, but her body boiled with anger. She vowed that the next time she encountered Emplate, it would be the last.

"Aside from a headache and hurt pride," Ethan Callaghan said, "Vanguard's present and accounted for." His jaw and body still hurt from the solid blows Emplate dealt, but he was recovering, turning his pain into focused anger. Despite his strength and speed, Emplate swatted him away like a pestering insect, making him rethink his strategy.

"Don't you have some kind of codename like the others?" Jason asked to Graylon, curious. It seemed that the young man and the rest of the team had history, as opposed to his own rather recent joining of the band of mutants. It would make him feel less like an outsider though if someone else didn't have some kind of cool name as well.

"It's Exile," he responded, rising to his feet with a little help from Jason, who frowned disappointedly at the reply.

Michael rolled his eyes. "What kind of name is that? I mean, that name sounds tough, but you're not that guy."

Graylon's eyes flashed with anger. "When I was six, my powers developed. I could conduct this weird bioelecticity from my hands. Well, my mother in all her religious wisdom thought my hands were of the devil, and she did what any demon-fearing woman would do. She personally sawed off the lower parts of both my arms and burned them."

The group was shocked into silence, completely surprised and shocked by the revelation of his past.

"I—I didn't know..." Michael stammered, embarrassed for making a joke about his choice of name. He couldn't necessarily forgive his constant interference into their situations, but the revelation of his past somehow negated some of the annoyance he felt towards the intruding reporter.

Graylon continued, more talking aloud than to a single person. "The neighbors heard my screams, broke in, and rushed me to the hospital, and, of course, Niles was there. His team of scientists recovered what they could, extracted residual cells from my arms, and combined them with Adamantium Epsilon, an extremely pliable version of the metal Wolverine's claws are made of. They created a mold of my arms and melded them back. My bioelecticity jumpstarted the synapses going to my hands and fingers, so I could use them just like normal. But I could also change their shape with concentration."

After a moment of quiet, Jason inquired, "What happened to your father?"

"My father and mother got divorced when I was two. When he heard about what happened, he blamed himself for not being there. Instead of bringing us closer, he just stayed away. Niles knew the difficulty his brother was going through, so he became my legal guardian, and I grew up with him. I opted to move out only last year when he got really immersed with the Arminthorpe Corporation, wanting to be on my own for a bit."

"Why didn't you tell us before?" Ethan pressed. Just like Michael, he would have understood the young man's motivation if they had known about his past, especially with Dr. Cain.

"Yeah, right," Graylon responded dismissively. "Like I'm just supposed to walk up and tell you about my dysfunctional family and my mentally scarring experience with being a mutant. You people live in a fantasy world sometimes."

"That's not true," Michael quickly said, relating with him due to his own tragic eruption of powers and alienation from his parents. "We all have rough beginnings. For some of us, that's why we're here."

Graylon's expression didn't soften until he glanced toward Illyana. He averted his eyes, and his cheeks flushed, though his brows stayed arched in anger. But he didn't say anything else, letting the conversation die in the overwhelming silence.

"We're short on time, people," Scott announced, noting the break in dialogue. He realized that these teenagers were faced with greater challenges and tragedies than he and his peers were at that age. They were much more mature, but that also came with a price—the eradication of being just a teenager. Even now, the young team opted to face a mutant demi-god, even with the knowledge of possible death. For that, they had his respect.

Monet stepped forward. "He's planning on going after Yvette again. Her emotion-based ability is limitless, and if coupled with his boosted magical abilities, he will be difficult to defeat."

"You didn't say impossible," Ethan commented.

"Nothing is impossible when I'm involved."

Illyana frowned. "Cyclops, though he is weakened, he is still using this realm's high level of magic energy to fuel his powers. His plan is multi-tiered. He's amassing power here to cross back into your realm with the intent of merging the two. If that happens, it will be an open door for Emplate and all these demons to run rampant."

Scott nodded, recalling the mystical atmosphere of Limbo. If that indeed was the case, defeating him would be challenging. "It seems that way," he said, his lips pressed into a line of concentration. "So, we've got to get him out of here."

"How are we supposed to do that? He's beaten us every time we've faced him," Ethan reminded the X-Man. Frustration was settling in—it seemed like they were facing an enemy who only grew more powerful and unstoppable with every encounter. They were strong in their own right, but he couldn't help but to question if it was enough.

Scott understood the growing concerns. "Emplate is powerful, make no mistake. But we've got power and numbers on our side. We're keeping him off-balance. He could have done us serious harm, but he hasn't—he can't. So, we keep the pressure on—Illyana, be ready to take us back to Earth when you see the chance."

The sorceress nodded in agreement, understanding her critical role in defeating Emplate.

"Everyone else," Scott continued, "don't get discouraged. We know what he's capable of, and we've fought him before."

"Nice speech, X-Fool!"

Flickering shadows closed in, repelled only by Illyana's Soulsword, a glowing blade forged from her own soul. The silver blade emitted its own light from somewhere within as she held it in front of her, illuminating the entire room. The darkness retreated, absorbed into a female standing on the other side of the room. With her, another unfamiliar female stood, along with Bulwark, the massive and strong mutant they had faced multiple times in the past.

The trio all possessed the same crimson, glowing eyes, a telltale sign of Emplate's influence. And as such, the expectation was that whatever power they had was magnified, and they only had one intent—to serve Emplate until he reached his goal.

"Servants of Emplate," Illyana addressed, her voice stern, "Leave us be, lest you want to fall by my sword."

_She reminds me of Gaia with all of those unnecessary speeches,_ Michael sourly thought. He briefly wondered if epic addresses were some sort of prerequisite for being an X-Man. But when the trio paused, he thought that maybe her tough words had actually impacted their enemies, and they could avoid a fight. But the big behemoth, Bulwark was his name he thought, belittled her words, disappointing him.

"You may scare those demons, Magik, but I'm not afraid of you or your dumb sword," he scoffed, his comically massive muscles flexing with every word.

"Right. You sound real mature and tough," Graylon rolled his eyes.

"You X-pests are fools," Nocturne, the female on the left, shot. Her pale skin was offset by her jet black hair and her dark outfit, outlining her fit body. "Emplate has given you the chance to rule by his side as he remakes universes. But you choose to stand against him."

Fed up, Michael responded, "You're the fools. You don't understand what you're doing. You're under Emplate's influence—you don't want to destroy the world. Snap out of it, or we'll snap you out of it."

"I'll ask you once, stand down," Scott said, stepping forward as the leader. He readied his optic blasts, already predicting that another fight would ensue.

The female on the right energized her hands with an amber glow. "We'll destroy you,"

Jason's jaw dropped. "Wait, you're really planning on destroying us?! What's wrong with you? Destroying someone is like permanent, cease to exist, atomizing, poof, I'm gone. You're really gonna take it there?"

She replied with a smirk, "We're not bound by a mere conscience."

"Neither am I," Illyana darkly said.

Scott knew this situation was far beyond words. No matter how much sense they made, no explanation would be enough for any of the teens forced into Emplate's servitude. And with "X-Men, take them down! No casualties. Make it quick."

"Abbreviated Injury Scale of three, got it!" Jason said as the room launched into action. He gestured with his arm, summoning a focused disruption of the floor directly in Bulwark's path as he charged. But the massive mutant was much more agile than he appeared as he leapt into the air to avoid the attack. Jason watched as Bulwark stopped in midair, courtesy of a telekinetic hold from Michael.

"You people should realize who you're dealing with," Michael said, giving a nod to Scott, who shot a suspended Bulwark with his optic blast. He spun around and threw his hands up in defense as beams of dark energy shot towards them. The attack crackled against his telekinetic shield, which protected Jason and Scott as well.

He did a quick telepathic scan of the attacking female. Her codename was Nocturne, real name Bridget Wagner. Her bolts were actually spears of Darkforce energy, the same power wielded by Vanessa Wallace, their teammate and his current crush. He quickly scanned the other female, discerning her codename as Prima, but he couldn't get past a strong mental barrier. He took a chance and focused his thoughts into a broadcast to send this information to the others, not surprised that he had no trouble doing that and maintaining his shield.

"Good info, Marvel," Ethan called as he dodged blasts from Prima. "Magik, can you get me close to her?" He waited for a reply, but panicked as he suddenly began to fall into a circle of white light. In the next second, he was falling from the sky, right above his target. "I've got you!"

Prima focused her energy into an omni-directional force wave, throwing Ethan backwards, but he flipped in midair, landing several feet from her.

"Luckily," Illyana said as she stepped from a vertical stepping disk, surprising Prima, "we know how to work as a team." She backhanded the female with her armored left hand then gestured with her left hand, turning the stone floor into quicksand, which quickly overtook the girl up to her neck. Another gesture solidified the stone, leaving her trapped and screaming.

The screams of her teammate caught Nocturne's attention, which gave Michael enough time to give her a telekinetic shove. Right into Ethan's arms. He activated the neutralizing aspect of his power, which completed rendered the female powerless, turning her into a kicking and screaming opponent.

"Sleep," Michael commanded as his eyes glowed with his psionic energies. His verbal order translated into a telepathic action, ordering her brain to produce an abundant amount of melatonin, which signals the body to sleep. The overwhelming presence of the chemical had an immediate effect, sending Nocturne into a state of rest, falling limp in Ethan's arms. "She'll recover. Eventually," he said.

"Wow, where did you learn to do that?" Ethan asked as he gently laid the girl on the ground.

"I pay attention in class."

Scott gave the young man a nod of approval. "Jean will be glad to hear that." Despite their young age and his initial reservations, he was impressed with the students' power control and tactical prowess. With the right training and mentorship, they would be excellent additions to the team in a combat capacity or a teaching position.

On the other side of the room, Bulwark recovered quickly, angered by the unexpected viciousness of their attack. But as he climbed to his feet, Graylon and Monet stood between him and the rest of the team.

"You know, you picked the wrong people to mess with," Graylon said as he pitched forward with his fingers morphed into jagged claws. He slashed Bulwark's arm and ducked beneath a wild punch. Monet was there instantly and caught the wayward strike, dragging him into the air. With a smile of anticipation, she spun once, then let him go. He flew through the air and smashed through another wall.

"I think he's out for the count," Monet announced as she lowered to the ground, joining the rest of the group who now converged near the center of the room.

Illyana announced, "I—I'm detecting Emplate's presence. The others—they have succeeded in weakening him."

"Get us there now," Scott ordered. In the next second, the team disappeared from the room, bracing themselves for the final battle.

Notes

Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional

Aotrs Commander: Many thanks for the compliment! I actually have a lot of this storyarc written, but I've been meticulously reviewing and making changes. You'll see a few more chapters flow in a few more days.

Great catch on the Everett thing! I changed the various team line-ups mid-stride, so it was an oversight! I actually changed it the same day you posted the review. Ty has taken Everett's place on Bishop's team.

The X-Men have definitely undergone some changes over the past several years. Some of the more negative changes are what made me start writing in the first place. They seem to have lost that knack for storytelling and character development, instead focusing on the next big fight. I've kept up with them just to stay abreast of the characters and happenings, but there hasn't been anything that has blown me away story-wise. Even the characters are questionable these days. This whole madness named A vs. X really brought about some issues that were way out of character and just didn't make sense. Again, since House of M, as you pointed out, it has been  
just big fight after big fight. I'm not too sure about this Marvel NOW business either.

As you probably already know, the original X-Men are coming back into the fray. Yes, that means there will be two Scotts, two Bobby Drakes, two Hank McCoys, and two Angels. The only one without a future counterpart will be Jean Grey. I'm not sure what direction they plan on going with this, but I have a feeling it's on a course to another big fight.

I think the X-Men and related titles have great characters that they can do so much with. I was a fan of Gen X, and those were some pretty awesome characters as well. It's a shame that most of have been either killed, altered dramatically, or reduced to tertiary character status amongst  
others.

I got hooked on the X-Men of the 90s as well, so I know exactly what you're taking about! I think this is my way of telling a story while keeping those characters "alive" as their previous selves.

Yes, it is sad to get your X-Men fix from fanfiction, but at the same time, you get to experience the characters through different sets of eyes, which can be exciting! There are some writers on here who are totally awesome and have kept in the spirit of old school X-Men! But keep your eyes on All-New X-Men...it could be a throwback to the stories of old...

All that being said, thank you for sticking with the story! It's fun to write, and I love all of the characters, both Marvel's and my own OCs. If my writing ever falters, I expect you to keep me honest! Thanks for the review as always!


	45. Emplate's Revenge, Part 13

I.

Yvette Ninochka took shallow, quiet breaths, trying to calm her own panic from escalating within the prison she had spent years in. She had narrowly escaped Emplate's clutches earlier in the day after his Hellions attempted to kidnap her. Feigning unconsciousness, she surprised her captors with a well-planned attack, and coupled with teamwork from Rico Vidal, they managed to escape.

Accompanying her teammates on a quest to find Emplate's source of power, she fell victim to her own curiosity. She was lured into their enemy's clutches, and he decisively overwhelmed them, taking her as his prize. When she awoke, she found heavy, metal restraints clamped on her claws, keeping her pinned against the stone wall, and her mind wandered back to how it all began.

It was three years ago that an explosion jolted her from a peaceful dream. Her mother was there within seconds, ushering her into clothes and hastily throwing some items into a bag. She had never seen her mother so pallid and frightened, and though she tried to ask what was going on, her mother didn't immediately answer, but instead dragged her daughter down the stairs to join the head of the household, Vlad.

Yvette's father, a tall and sturdy man, was paled as well, a mix of worry and determination on his face. It wasn't until they paused for a moment that she heard the screams and bullets in the distance, drawing closer with each passing second.

No words were exchanged amongst them—her father quickly barricaded the front door, then led Ivana and Yvette out of the back, ensuring that it locked from the inside. If anything, it would delay their pursuers as they tried to break into the house, giving them enough time to put some distance between them.

Somehow, Yvette almost instinctively knew that the soldiers were bad people, intending on hurting, maiming, and killing whoever they came across. She tried not to think about her friends or the other elders she had spoken to every day...maybe they were as quick as them and were able to escape into the night. But she was sure that some were surprised by the invasion and didn't escape the violence. It was then she realized that war and its consequences were indiscriminate.

They were on the run for days until they came across an abandoned house. They took refuge there, portioning out the little bit of food they were able to salvage and ensuring to save their strength in the event they needed to escape once again. When things were quiet, they would tell Yvette stories about America and how things like this didn't happen there. She would subsequently fall asleep, dreaming of a peaceful paradise.

On the third night, a heavy rain fell, beating mercilessly against the shingled roof. Her parents let her sleep upstairs, while they discussed something she wasn't privy to. Despite sleeping well the other nights, she was restless and unable to fall asleep. No matter how she repositioned herself, fluffed her pillow, or wrapped her blanket around herself, the normal feeling of fatigue never came.

Just as she turned over in her bed again, a loud boom resounded, and the entire house shook. She froze, for only a second before she jumped out of the bed and rushed out of the room. She kept her stride light but quick, the anticipation of something terrible burning brighter with each step. The sudden silence scared her, and she wanted to call out to her parents—to hear them reassure her that everything was fine. But the longer the silence remained, the more she feared that she would never hear their voices again.

An acrid stench stole her breath, eliciting a sharp cough and watering eyes. The bag she had instinctively grabbed on her way down suddenly felt heavy, and her decent down the stairs was difficult and slow. She still held back calling out to her parents, assuming the worst. As the charred remains of the front of the house came into view, she knew the worst was reality. Moonlight splayed across broken chunks of wall, wood, and brick, revealing a hand reaching from under the rubble on one side of the room and a shoeless foot on the other side.

Tears burned her eyes worse than the lingering smoke as she advanced toward the lifeless hand, a familiar bracelet dangling from a thin wrist. She glanced toward the foot, noting the worn leather shoe only inches away. She tried every way to deny the obvious until her mind simply snapped—she fell to her knees and cried.

But only a few minutes later, the foreign voices of the pursuing soldiers came into range and drew closer. A part of her felt like she was betraying her parents if she left—they were a closely bonded family, and she had never been apart from them. But a part of her knew that if the soldiers caught her, they would make her life a living nightmare. With one last glance, she took off through the broken area and sprinted into the wooded area directly behind the house. Her legs carried her through a hilly, dense forest away from the soldiers. She forced one foot in front of the other despite the heartbreak and tears that threatened to stop her. Sobs wrecked her breathing and aching limbs finally caused her to lean her weary body against a large tree. She roughly wiped away hot tears, listening for the pursuing soldiers.

Disoriented, she clenched her eyes shut. Calming herself, she attempted to calculate her current location, but the starless night sky and thick foliage made it difficult. But as she rested, she heard the sound of running water, and knowing that there was only one major stream that ran near the town, Yvette was able to quickly discern her general whereabouts. She ran towards the stream, nearly tripping over stubby roots and unseen stones until she reached a large oak next to the stream.

She leaned on it, panting and crying, her lungs about to explode—her heart crushed. Trying to push away the fatigue and despair, she pushed herself to trudge across the racing water to throw off any animals that may be following her scent. Then she ran. And ran. And ran. She didn't know when she stopped running—maybe her body just finally collapsed. But when she awoke in the middle of the forest, Yvette truly did not know where she was.

She frantically fumbled in her bag for the compass her father gave her. When he placed it in her hand, he gave her explicit instructions, "If we ever get separated, take a 342 heading, and keep going in that direction."

But this wasn't a matter of just being separated. Whatever was at the end of the path, she would have to experience it by herself. The thought of being alone brought tears to her eyes, and her fingers felt clumsy as she tried to pry open the compass. Finally steadying her hold, the compass opened, and she was able to plot the next point on her course, a large tree high on the rising hill in front of her.

Still weary and emotional, Yvette managed to push herself to fulfill her father's last bit of guidance. Over the course of a few days, she found herself in a rather large town, a perfect location for hiding in plain sight. She had no money. Barely any food left. Only the clothes on her back. And no one left to love.

As the months passed, she adapted to a street urchin way of life, scrounging for food, dropped money, and a comfortable place to sleep for the night. She was constantly on the move, which was easy within Forestville, a sizable town. She had gotten to know a few of the other homeless people, who offered soothing words and stories of their own. In a way, it was comforting to be with people who were in the same situation, but ultimately, she could never really bond with them for fear of losing them as well.

To cope, she simply bottled her emotions inside. All of the sadness and pain, she just pushed them deeper and deeper inside of her heart, until she felt impervious on the outside. It was rare for her to smile, laugh, or even cry. All of her emotions were locked away, replaced by a figurative hardened exterior.

One night after many months of being there, as she settled into an alley to sleep, two sets of footsteps shuffled into the area. There was a sound of a stream of water hitting the wall—drunk fools, they were urinating in the alley, though the bar clearly had its own restroom. Disgusted, Yvette stayed still as to not draw attention—the last thing she needed was to deal with intoxicated locals. Despite her desire to remain unseen, a sneeze caught her off guard, quickly drawing the attention of the two men.

The closest one finished first, zipping up his pants before investigating, his blurry eyesight catching a glimpse of red hair.

He said something in a completely different language, one Yvette wasn't familiar with at all. But whatever the first stated caught the attention of the other one, who joined him to leer at her. She stood, hoping that the two men would be about their way, carrying on with whatever drunken plan they had, which didn't include her. But they remained still, blocking her way out of the alley, a depraved hunger flashing in their eyes. They approached carefully, their slurred words quiet but menacing.

These men were totally unaware of the deep pain their victim held inside up to this point. The loss of her parents, the loss of her home, and the feeling of loneliness—all of it churned within her, and as the idea that she was in significant danger registered, something changed. There was a sudden burning deep within her chest that spread through her body like hellfire, then chilled like frigid ice. Her body acted autonomously changing into a form to match her hardened emotional exterior. Frightened, she glanced at her right hand, which now a sharp, dangerous claw. It was the same with her other hand and feet, and her skin was now a crimson shell, hard and impenetrable. She tried to scream, but no sound came out.

Her potential assaulters were suddenly angry and advanced on her. Before she knew what was happening, she reacted with lightning speed, her claws slicing through their flesh with amazing ease. The fight was over in a matter of seconds—two lifeless bodies lay in the alley, torn to shreds. She stared in horror as the reality of what happened settled in: she had killed two men. No matter whether it was self-defense or not, they were gone, just like her parents.

She fell to her knees, staring at the instruments of destruction her hands had now become.

"You were protecting yourself, there is nothing to be ashamed of," a voice called to her from the head of the alley. She reluctantly looked up to find a dark-skinned male watching her, his red eyes seemed to illuminate the entire alley. "But they will hunt you and try to blame you for what happened here tonight. I can take you away from all of this, come with me."

Dizzied, she felt weak and could barely move. Over and over, she kept telling herself that there was nothing left, which made the stranger's words that much more inviting. Unable to speak, she simply raised her eyes and locked them with his. Before she could think twice, she was gone from the alley. It wasn't until later that she realized she had accepted an invitation to hell.

When the short, Aborigine man appeared in her chamber years later, she thought she was hallucinating. He sat lotus-style, somehow floating in mid-air. His eyes were closed as if he were in deep mediation, but he also seemed to be aware of Yvette. Shackled and hurting, she simply stared at this intruder, his intent unknown.

In the same manner that year before, she had disappeared from the alley, she suddenly found herself lying on damp grass, a dark starry sky above her. She was weak and fatigued, and her body felt heavy and unresponsive. There was commotion around her, and she heard the floating man say one word, _Penance_.

Now imprisoned in an unknown place, Yvette stepped through her history as a means of coping with being taken once again by her tormentor, Emplate. But something was horribly different and dangerous about their enemy, and she knew that she had to escape. Again. But she couldn't count on her floating angel to save her again. And her teammates were nowhere to be seen.

She tugged at the chains and restraints, fully aware they were constructed to prevent her escape. They were engineered from adamantium, a strong metal that was difficult to damage, let alone break. The cold metal was clamped over her claws, preventing even the slightest wiggle of a finger.

Yvette resigned herself for a moment, stepping through various plans of escape. She felt confident in her ability to figure out the rest once she freed herself. But accomplishing that part seemed hopeless. She relaxed, feeling something stirring inside of her, but she attributed it to the knot of fear that pulsed in her stomach.

Focusing, she turned her attention to the restraints again. They were specifically designed to bind her claws, but not her normal hands. If she could somehow change from her present form back to her normal self, she should be able to slip out with ease. However, she had given up a long time ago on somehow changing back. She figured that her metamorphosis was permanent, but lately, she had noticed her own skin growing softer during times of enjoyment and levity.

If she was going to understand and master her power, this was something she had to figure out immediately. If her ability was somehow tied to emotion, then the negative feelings must contribute to her current state, while positive emotion had the opposite effect. She focused on the pleasant aspects of her new life—her friendship with Jubilee, Monet's caring words, her fun times with her classmates, Paige's bedtime stories—so many wonderful things she had experienced with her new family.

Suddenly, she felt cool, damp air on her skin. _Skin?!_ She glanced down and pulled her hand easily from the restraint, then held it in front of her, flexing the fingers she had forgotten she had. Her complexion was still fair, having been protected from the sun and elements for so long. It was then that she could feel everything against her—the leather outfit clinging to her body, her hair tumbling down the back of her neck, and the softness of her lips. All of it was so foreign and exciting that she almost forgot her original intent.

"I—I'm normal," she said. _Said?!_ She clamped her hand over her mouth, surprised to her a soft voice. Her soft voice. And in English. Being around the English-speaking students, she subconsciously picked up the language and could obviously speak it as well as understand it.

Tears of joy danced at the edges of her eyes. She thought she had long since lost her human traits, but they were there all along, suppressed by the internalization of all of the negative things that had happened. She was a mutant with the ability to change her physical appearance based on her emotional state.

Yvette somehow understood more about herself than she had in a long time.

Approaching footsteps echoing down the hallway snapped her back to the situation at hand—she was trapped in Otherworld and had to find a way to escape. Her heart still racing from the revelation of her transformation, she breathed deeply and then sprang into action.

She sneaked across the chamber, her bare feet barely making any sound against the stone floor. Pressing herself against the wall behind the door, she held her breath and waited. As expected, a key slid into the metal lock then the heavy door swung open as D.O.A. entered with a tray of food.

The comically diminutive man stopped only a few feet into the room, completely stunned that Yvette was nowhere to be seen. An empty cell was the last thing that he wanted to report to this new and improved Emplate. Far more temperamental and powerful, this new entity lacked distant compassion and instead harbored a sense of entitlement with lingering ill-will towards the mutant teenagers who continually usurped his efforts.

"Ummm...Yvette...?" he quietly called, not really expecting the young girl to reply. She couldn't talk, so there was no way—

"I'm right here!" a female voice responded.

D.O.A. spun, but a sharp pain flashed across his head, and everything went dark.

Yvette stood over the still body and dropped the metal clamps she used as a weapon. She wasn't particularly sorry for the attack, though she did it without ill-intent. It was simple—she refused to be a prisoner any longer. And to that end, no one would stand in her way.

II.

Marius St. Croix's eyes shot open as he sucked in a horrified breath. He shot upright, clutching his chest as he tried to discern his current whereabouts through labored gasps. But he paused, realizing that his hand was touching his bare chest—there was no respirator attached. He chanced a glance downwards, and saw his hand, toned with a natural, medium-bronze complexion. He stared in disbelief, as he felt his soft dreadlocks brushing against the sides of his face and neck. It had been years since he had seen his own body and skin, but was this real? Further inspection of his entire body, and the lack of dream oddities, validated that somehow, someway, he was real-world normal again.

_I'm free_, he realized, holding back overwhelming emotion. He didn't think he would ever see his own body again, but as he tried to remember how he got into the hospital bed, his memory failed him miserably. The past was a thick fog that only caused more confusion when he even thought about navigating through it.

Abandoning the notion of trying to remember, he glanced around, noting the sterile room and complex machinery at his bedside. One of the monitors flashed an alarm, but before Marius could investigate further, the door opened and a stern-looking woman strode in, her crisp lab coat flowing behind her.

"I see you're awake," she mentioned, more as a rudimentary comment than a notion of excitement at a patient's recovery. Without waiting for a response, she tended to the equipment and disengaged the alarm. She then turned to the young man, detecting his disorientation, and peered at him over metal-framed glasses. "I'm Dr. Reyes, and you're at the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters," she unemotionally informed him.

Marius felt as though the woman harbored some animosity for him, though he couldn't discern exactly why. It must have had to do with something from the past that he couldn't quite remember, but he didn't know what he could have possibly done to incur such a feeling from a complete stranger.

"What happened?" he asked, pushing away the grogginess. "I can't remember anything, but I just feel like something bad happened." He knew that his body wasn't his own, but he wasn't sure how he knew that. Or why he couldn't recall the individual who was housed within.

Cecelia didn't feel equipped to relay his past back to him, so she deferred. "I'll get the headmistress. She can explain this much better than I can." Without waiting for the young man's follow-up question, she strode from the room, leaving him alone again.

Marius shifted, his body rebelling in the process. It was then he felt every twinge of pain throughout his entire body, which made him wonder what he had gone through before winding up in the medical recovery ward of the so-called Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. His mind spun with many more questions than answers, but before he could even try to decipher anything, another woman entered the room.

Dressed in a stark white, two-piece business suit, the blonde didn't look pleased to see him in the slightest. Her icy blue eyes studied him intently, causing Marius to shrink away, despite the ebbing pains protesting any slight movement. Her equally white high heels clicked across the floor until she was facing him at the foot of the bed.

"If the circumstances were different," she began, "I would be elated at your quick recovery. But all things considered, you're lucky that you're even waking up."

Marius felt his anger flair. "Look, I'm tired of getting attitude from you people. I don't know what transpired before my arrival here, but if I had my choice, I would be as far away from here as possible. Considering, my choices are quite limited, it may be better for all parties if someone would simply explain what's going on."

Emma crossed her arms, frowning. She couldn't wholeheartedly believe that his memory of his time as Emplate was nonexistent. And even if it was, she couldn't separate Emplate from Marius St. Croix—it was just too soon. She explained, "Apparently, you were possessed by some mutant god, who managed to part ways with you about an hour ago. The rest of my students and the X-Men followed it into Limbo with the intent of stopping whatever scheme it has in store."

"I—I don't understand," he responded, suddenly dizzied by the unexpected revelation. "I was...possessed?" He understood the concept, but had a difficult time digesting that it had happened to him. And no matter how he pushed himself, he couldn't recall the circumstance that led to his possession. Even prior knowledge of Emplate seemed to elude him.

"Yes. I don't know the details myself, but it's probably best that you talk to your father about that," she replied. Earlier, Cartier revealed that somehow, he was responsible for binding Emplate to Marius, but did not provide any other details than that. As such, she didn't think it wise to reveal that knowledge—it should be left to Cartier to explain, though he was next door in a coma-like state. "What I can tell you is that during your time as Emplate, you weren't exactly accomplishing Nobel Peace Prize work."

Marius shifted in the bed, catching the undertone that his actions as Emplate were far worse than he initially presumed, which explained the unfavorable reactions towards him. "My parents and sisters, where are they?" he inquired, needing to be around someone familiar and hopefully far less hostile.

"Monet is with one of the teams pursuing Emplate. The twins are safe here in the school. And your father—he's in the next room, recovering as well." She noted the sudden alarm that took over the young man's features, and explained, "Your father is still unconscious. I managed to enter his mind and rejoin his spirit and body, but the spell he used caused massive injuries. We have our best doctors tending to him, so he should recover with minimal residual effect."

Marius listened intently, only showing a sign of relief as Emma concluded. "I suspect I had a part in his trauma, but thankfully, he will recover. But curiously, you failed to mention my mother."

Emma's cast her eyes away for a moment. She shouldn't be the one to tell him the truth about what happened to his mother—that Marius was responsible for her death. Taking a deep breath, she crossed her arms, regaining her steely gaze. "You ask too many questions. We're in the middle of averting a dimensional crisis. Your game of twenty questions will have to wait until my students return safely. Until then, you will recover here, but you forbidden to leave this room."

Ignoring his aches, Marius sat up, alarmed. "I'm a prisoner? Why?"

"It's the only way to make sure you don't hurt my students again. And if you even think about setting foot outside of this room, I will personally scramble your brain within that thick skull of yours. Am I clear?"

"Crystal," he replied with a hardened glare.

Unfazed, Emma returned with an unreadable glance before departing the room, activating the electronic defenses as the door closed.

Marius heard the soft clicks of the electronic bolts and the rather pleasant beeps of the alarm system, reinforcing the notion that he was imprisoned. He closed his eyes and laid back down, his body again reminding him of its frailty though pangs of pain. But worse than his body was the hurt that swelled in his heart...whatever he had done, the crimes he had committed, he would pay for them, one way or another.

III.

As Jean Grey-Summers readied the team to depart, Paige Guthrie split from the group, intending on addressing the teens who barely escaped the Emplate invasion of the town. She adjusted her uniform, a black body suit with dark crimson accents and wrist bands. Compared to the others, her uniform was simple in appearance, however, between Forge and Hank, it was modified to shift when she transitioned into a new material—no more embarrassing, naked fighting!

She smiled, glad for the vast improvement as she entered the living room. The teens from earlier spoke quietly amongst themselves, uneasy expressions on their faces. With everything happening, they hadn't really had the chance to attend to their psychological needs, so they were probably still reeling from the sequence of events that led them to the school. They were unexpectedly immersed in a dangerous situation that they were barely equipped to handle. And Paige could relate.

Her kidnapping by the Phalanx put her in a position where she had to work alongside other inexperienced mutants and attempt to understand her powers as a means of protection and self-defense. Not only that, but it put her side-by-side with the X-Men, most of whom she had only met briefly. To say she was intimidated and scared were understatements, and the teens in front of her probably felt the same way.

She cleared her throat to politely announce herself, effectively killing the hushed conversation. They at least looked much better than when they arrived—they had cleaned themselves up, eaten, and gotten to relax within the confines of the secure school. But mentally, she wasn't quite sure how they were holding up.

"Hey," she shyly greeted. "I haven't had the chance to check on you, so I wanted to make sure you're okay."

Tracy Authier glanced up then smiled, pushing her long brown locks behind her ears. "Thanks, Paige. I think we're okay for the most part. Overwhelmed, but at least we're safe. We told Mr. Noble we'd help with taking the food to the kids upstairs. Dad is in there helping him cook."

She envisioned the two gentlemen, maneuvering through the kitchen precisely, as if a meal required the exactness and strictness of a military operation. The scene within her mind brightened her mood just a bit.

"That's good to hear," Paige smiled. Taking on a more serious tone, she said, "I apologize, but we're going to have to leave you here with Mr. Noble for a while longer. There are some other people who may be in danger on the outskirts of the town. They need our help."

Tracy's lips pressed into a thin line. "It's the Arminthorpe Corporation, isn't it?" she quizzed with a tone that spoke of intimate knowledge of the ongoing saga. Considering her father, Chief Dan Authier, was the lead inspector on the case, it wasn't a surprise that she immediately recognized the otherwise ambiguous location.

Paige nodded in response, unable to reveal anything else. They were suiting up to rescue a team of mutants who were responsible for kidnapping one of their own doctors, not to mention the lethal force they used against various members of the team. To others, it may not make any sense—heck, it barely made sense to her. But it just _felt_ right.

"Have you heard from anyone yet?" Jude McDowell asked, interjecting before Paige had the chance to elaborate on their mission. Only moments ago, they were attempting to figure out the fate of the mutants who disappeared into the circle of light. Tracy seemed to think that the team would discover a way to defeat Emplate and return the townspeople. But Levi was less pessimistic, surmising that the vicious Emplate creatures had overrun them. Alyssa and Rena only sat in silence, their concern for the teens and townspeople overwhelmingly evident.

The young man peered at Paige with mistrust and apprehension, which gave his handsome features a darker tone. She realized that he and his companions needed to hear something positive, some snippet of hope that everything would be fine. Despite this, she answered honestly, "No. They're out of range of our communications capabilities."

Rena, Jude's younger sister, sat directly across from him. With hair slightly darker than his, her features were similar to her sibling's, but with softer punctuation that made her quite attractive as well. But now, anxiety had settled in, creating tired circles under her eyes. To Paige, she hesitantly asked, "Do you think they're okay?"

She answered, "Yes, I know they're okay."

Almost immediately, Alyssa Stine, the daughter of the Icy Delight owner, inquired, "What about the townspeople? Do you think they'll find them?"

Paige knew that the girl was also deeply concerned about her mother, who was kidnapped in the invasion. She couldn't imagine what Alyssa was going though, noting the teen's puffy, red eyes. "One group went to specifically locate them. I'm sure that they will find them and bring them back," she stated.

Levi Hawthorne scoffed at her response. "Are you just blowing smoke? You sound so sure, but you just said you couldn't communicate with them. So, you're just saying whatever sounds good."

His steely eyes bore into Paige, but she didn't cower. Her emotions taking over, she snapped, "Listen, to you, we may just be the strange kids attending the isolated, weird school. But those are my teammates—my friends—out there. If I don't believe that they're making things right, then who will?"

"Yeah, well it's our parents, teachers, family, friends, classmates, and neighbors who were taken against their will. I want to know if I'll see them again with certainty, not your guesswork and high hopes," Levi said with a tone that indicated he didn't believe anything Paige had told them.

"They're the good guys, man," Jude cut in, addressing Levi. "Our parents and friends were taken too. But one of our friends, Mike, is out there using his powers to save them. I know him, and I know that if anyone's out there trying to save them, it's him. I don't know the rest of the kids here, but if they're like him, we'll see everyone again."

Tracy chimed in, "He's right. I know and trust them fully. Paige, I know that they'll get everything back to normal. In the meantime, please, be careful out there. Those things are dangerous."

The complete shift of the conversation surprised Paige, and for the first time, she was open to the idea that maybe their peers in the town didn't think of them as strange, secluded mutants. Maybe some of them were accepting and even supportive, despite the growing anti-mutant sentiment.

_"Black Strike Force, convene in two minutes for departure,"_ Jean Grey-Summers telepathically broadcasted to all of the members of the team, excluding all others.

"We will. And thanks," Paige said. Steadying herself, she made her way to the rally point, hoping that they were indeed able to restore the town and its inhabitants, stopping Emplate and his scheme once and for all.

IV.

Miranda Vaughn rubbed her arms, not because she was chilled, but because her body still shook from the tension of revelations about Niles Cain and an unexpected confrontation with unnamable creatures. The compound, presumed by her and probably all others to have maximum security measures, was infiltrated by these mysterious beings with heinous ill-intent. Despite the surprise assault, she worked with captive Dr. Niles Cain to defeat the aggressors, and just when she thought everything was fine, the metallic walls, florescent lights, and steel floor melted into a cavern-like area.

Niles briefly explained it as a cross-dimensional merger or something to that effect. He believed that somehow, another world inexplicably connected with theirs was encroaching upon them, which had to be a purposeful act by some nefarious entity. He had no way of ascertaining any other details about their current location, except that there were probably more of those creatures lurking around.

"I still don't understand," Miranda rehashed, breaking the contemplative silence that had settled. No matter how much she tried and despite everything that she had witnessed during her time with the Arminthorpe Corporation, she couldn't digest the concept of different dimensions, let alone two of them merging. Especially when everything happened without any kind of warning or foreshadowing. "Everything was just fine," she continued, thinking of the delicious dinner, uninteresting conversation, then her trip to the holding cells below the main floors. She didn't recall anything suspicious or even remotely alarming that would have indicated a looming catastrophe. "It's like we've gone to hell in a hand basket."

"To hell, yes, but minus the hand basket," Casey Chamberlain said as he turned a corner and approached the duo. The young man appeared slightly disheveled, and his mouth was pressed into a serious line. His eyebrows arched in shock when he saw Niles free from his cell, but he said nothing about it.

Niles caught the surprise glance, but their current situation was much more pressing. "Do you know what's happening?" he asked Casey, partially as a test and partially because he hoped the technological genius would have some nugget of information that he could use.

"There's some kind of dimensional flux—this place, the stuff we're seeing, it's all from an entirely different world," he explained. "We sounded the alarms while you were downstairs, Ms. Vaughn, so you wouldn't have heard the commotion. Mason opted not to brief everyone, but the situation that the Xavier kids are mixed up in is having serious ramifications across the town. Unprecedented and exotic energy levels are off the charts almost everywhere. And you've probably already seen them—creatures created in the likeness of a being named Emplate are responsible for invading and executing their master's will."

"Where's Mason? And the others?" asked Miranda.

Casey shook his head, regretfully. "We were separated during the fight. Everyone else got taken out pretty quickly—those Emplates were vicious. We were able to get the remaining employees locked down within the Sanctuary, on the other side of the campus."

"What are these creatures trying to achieve?" Niles questioned.

"I've been using my tablet to link into the main computer system. From what I can gather with the energy analysis and the monitoring devices, the Emplates and some mutants I've never seen before used our team's mutant abilities to power some means of starting a merger between the two realms."

Niles's nodded in agreement, having his initial hypothesis validated by the explanation. Still curious, he asked, "Do you know anything about this place?"

"Otherplace. Limbo. Either name works. Like I said earlier, think of it like hell, only throw in a bunch of magic."

Miranda shook her head in disbelief, still trying to wrap her head around the entire situation. "What are we involved in? How could you have all of this information and not tell us?"

Casey shifted his guilty gaze away from Miranda. "Mason made the call on that, and he's the boss. He presumed that Xavier's would handle it swiftly—he even paid them a visit, because Craig was kidnapped by the mutant leading this whole thing."

She let out an exasperated breath of frustration. "I knew I hadn't seen him, but kidnapped?! We should have known about that. We should have been out there with Xavier's helping to find him."

Casey understood her consternation and wished that she had found out this information at a better time in a better way. "Well," he explained, hoping to improve her perspective, "they found Craig, along with a few other kidnapped mutants, but that's where it got tricky. Emplate unleashed a strange energy field, which knocked out my monitoring capability. But right after that is when the creatures started appearing. They're some kind of magical derivative from the mutant those X-Kids were battling earlier. They pulled the townspeople into this realm. Everyone. Then, they came for us."

Miranda felt her strength drain. She couldn't believe how much had happened that she was totally unaware of. It bothered her that she had to hear it from Casey instead of Mason. And the fact of the matter was that if things hadn't gotten so out of hand, she may never have known about the situation at hand, which made her wonder what else she wasn't being told.

More rhetorically, she asked, "What are we supposed to do now?"

"Well, the control room is the safest place right now, considering it has the same lockdown mechanisms as the Sanctuary. If we get there, we can at least get in contact with Xavier's and get a good idea of where the rest of our team are. The realms are merging, but technically, we're still in the building. I have my GPS tracking on my tablet, so we'll be able to navigate back easily."

Niles said, "There aren't many times that I'm glad to see you, Casey, but this is definitely one of them."

"Likewise. Are either of you injured?"

"No," responded Miranda as she stood. "Let's go."

Niles noticed her sudden cold demeanor and wanted to ask about it. But he decided that his concern would have to wait. Not only that, but his release wasn't expected, and there was no telling what would happen when everything returned to normal...if it ever did. He decided to keep a close eye on everyone, Miranda included, waiting to see just how events would unfold.

V.

Marius slept, but he was plagued with visions of a figure nothing short of a monster. Claws. Beady, crimson eyes. Wrinkled hide. And in every scene, it was hurting unidentifiable individuals, using the disgusting mouths in its palms to clamp onto their bodies and drain away their lifeforce. No matter how he protested, the creature continued its heinous plight, laughing all the while, until the victims were nothing but ragged skeletons, screaming...

He emerged from the nightmares, the dread still gripping him, unwilling to fade away into a distant memory then evaporate from his consciousness altogether. Instead, it served as a reminder that in his body, Emplate committed countless atrocities, and now, he had to live with that knowledge and guilt for the rest of his life.

His breathing slowed from shallow, ragged panting, and he wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. Closing his eyes, he attempted to will away the lingering images of death and despair. However, they seemed to only burn brighter behind his eyelids, so he reopened his eyes, letting the sterile florescent light flood in.

It wasn't until then that his eyes fell upon the food tray sitting beside his bed, the aroma caressing his nose at the same time. He wasn't sure how long it had been since he last had a meal, but the growling anticipation of his stomach belayed that he was well overdue. Well within his reach, he lifted the covering and found a healthy portion of grilled chicken, steamed broccoli, and potatoes au gratin. A sliver of chocolate cake rested on a small dessert plate and iced tea filled a rather tall glass.

_No one I met earlier would have been kind enough to provide such a meal, I wonder who—_

"It was Mr. Noble," a voice happily answered from the opposite side of the room.

Startled for a few reasons, Marius snapped around to find two identical girls sitting on a couch previously out of his immediate line of sight. While one smiled at him, the other stared intently, lacking the friendly tone of the response. He blinked a few times, suddenly wondering if he was still immersed in a dream. Then he recognized his twin sisters, younger identical versions of Monet.

Nicole's smile broadened. "He cooks all of our meals! And his food is awesome! I would almost say sometimes better than Helga's, but don't tell her I said that," she grinned at the revelation, making a cute face that made Marius smile.

"Helga?" he repeated as a question.

"She was our cook. Really friendly and nice. And she made the best breakfast and desserts! You always preferred the nights when she made _jägerschnitzel_ and _bratkartoffein_," she answered, pronouncing the German dishes perfectly, surprising her brother. "Mr. Noble is just like that! I think you'll like him too!"

The young girl's cheerful demeanor raised Marius's mood slightly. But the other one still kept her dark eyes pinned on him as if trying to see his soul. He rose into a sitting position, still feeling the pain from earlier, and asked, "What are you doing here? I thought..." he trailed off, unsure that he should tell them about his imprisonment. "I thought that the medical area was off-limits to visitors, since I'm supposed to be resting and recovering. Are you even supposed to be down here?"

Nicole looked at the ceiling thoughtfully, then rested her gaze back on him. "Well, Claudette said that you were awake and that you needed to see her. And since Mr. Noble was bringing you dinner, we asked if we could come along to visit."

"But I haven't talked to anyone except for the woman in white and Dr. Reyes. I didn't make a request...why would I _need_ to see you?"

"Did you forget?!" Nicole inquired, genuinely surprised. "She can help you remember what you've forgotten. Oh, wait, if you forgot that then you wouldn't remember! Of course! But that's why we're here!"

_He had...forgotten?_ They were his sisters, so he should have been able to easily recollect this critical aspect of their being. But he couldn't discern anything more about the young twins aside from their relationship. Birthdays, special occasions, holidays—none of the memorable occurrences existed within his mind.

"I—I don't understand," Marius weakly replied. "I can't remember anything about my past life. And my time as Emplate. It's like—"

"A heavy fog, right? Like it should be there, but when you try to grab it, it just slips through your fingers," she finished.

Marius nodded in agreement. "That's exactly what it's like."

"From what Claudette says, your mind has been fractured because of Emplate. So even normal things that you should remember are lost. But if you want to, she can help."

"I don't know what she can do, but at this point, I'm not even sure I want to. Everything about my time as Emplate seems horrible—my imagination seems to be doing a great job of filling in the blanks. Besides, that woman in the white, she made it sound as if—" he trailed off, not wanting to think about the implications of her accusation and deciding not to share the information with the twins.

Unexpectedly, Nicole smiled. "You're not the bad guy anymore, you're back to normal." "Tell that to everyone else," he bitterly said. He realized that he was venting his feelings to his eight-year-old sisters and instantly regretted his negative tone.

"But," Nicole mysteriously added, "there are some things that you have to know that we can't simply tell you."

The statement hung heavily in the air, and a knot of dread formed in Marius's stomach. If he had done something that the twins couldn't even manage to discuss, then maybe it really wasn't worth knowing, considering. He weighed the options of his current blank slate and having all of the information at his disposal. The only different it would make would be to him, but maybe it would be better for everyone if he could genuinely acknowledge his actions as a means of atonement.

He breathed deeply, making his decision. "What do I have to do?"

"Just relax, and look into Claudette's eyes."

For the first time, Marius and Claudette locked eyes. As he stared into eyes identical to his own, hers took on an ethereal glow, before everything around him faded away, and he was raked through the memories of his time as Emplate. The transference of memories was less than a fraction of a second, but the pain was monumental, and Marius clenched his eyes in an effort to  
relieve the intense pounding in his head and to will away the images stampeding through his mind.  
As horrible as it was, the flash of agony was over, and Marius fell back onto his pillow, beads of sweat trickling down his temples and his breath coming in desperate rasps. Hot tears stung the corner of his eyes, and the bit of strength he had left, he used to murmur, "I—it all—is my fault..."

Nicole glanced thoughtfully at the ceiling. "It's now a part of who you are—who we are. So, it's better that you know. Monet is out there...they'll find Emplate, and Claudette is sure that they'll win. But what about you, brother? Now that you know the truth, what are you going to do?"

Marius's voice was barely a whisper. "What am I supposed to do? There's no way I can atone for the atrocities I committed. And our mother...I can't forgive myself. I—I'm so sorry. Nicole. Claudette, especially...you saw everything. I'm a monster..."

Nicole, still holding to her sister's hand, approached the door. She paused in the doorway and turned to face Marius. "Claudette says that one day, you'll figure out how to forgive yourself. But we won't." Unemotionally, she turned away, leading her sister from the room, with Claudette giving their brother one last, unreadable expression.

When the door closed, Marius erupted into tears.

Notes:

X-Men, Generation X, and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional.


	46. Emplate's Revenge, Part 14

I.

The X-Men's premiere jet, dubbed the Blackbird, cruised soundlessly through the night sky. Currently piloted by Jean Grey-Summers and Kurt Wagner, it carried the Black Strike Force team who sought to investigate the endangerment of the mutants residing within the Arminthorpe Corporation. The team, consisting of the codenamed individuals Phoenix, Nightcrawler, Chamber, Colossus, Husk, Banshee, Sable, and the White Queen, were suited up and silently anticipating their arrival.

Though the cabin was quiet, Paige Guthrie's own voice roared in her head. Everything from her unintentional love triangle between Jono, her, and Ethan to her mounting desire to be an X-Man to their current journey to lend aid to the Arminthorpe Corporation.

_I can't believe that we're actually going to rescue the same people that tried to kill us,_ Paige thought, biting her lip. She knew it was the right thing to do, but she couldn't look past the fact that the Corporation had kidnapped Dr. Niles Cain, a scientist and prior mentor to the team's newest recruits, and had attacked them with deadly intent on two separate occasions. After conferring with Kitty Pryde, she decided to approach the headmasters of the school about the unfolding invasion and to endorse sending a team to the Corporation to assist and rescue them.

As she revisited the notion again, an inkling of a second thought crept through her mind, and she found herself wondering if she really did make the right decision.

"Yes," Jean answered from the front seat.

Paige snapped out of her thoughts, surprised by the response. Her sky-blue eyes widened in surprise, unaware that she was broadcasting her thoughts so loudly, a flaw Emma had continually warned her about. Embarrassed, she stalled, "I'm sorry...?"

Jean turned with a reassuring smile and a sagacious twinkle in her emerald eyes, detecting the young woman's flustered reaction. "Yes, you made the right decision. _We're _making the right decision to help these people, even though they didn't—don't—have your best interests in mind."

Across from Paige, her teammate, Vanessa Wallace, nodded in agreement. "If we let them get overrun by Emplates, we're no better than them." She understood the hesitation on Paige's part and even secretly shared the sentiment. It wasn't about the people they were rescuing—it was about doing the right thing to save someone from danger.

However, Jono Starsmore, the Generation X team member known as Chamber, snubbed the explanation, _"I guess this is one of those turn-the-other-cheek lessons we're supposed t' be learnin'?"_

"I'll let Sean and Jean teach you that one," Emma Frost replied from behind Jono. Though it was plainly evident she cared for her students as if they were her own children, her veiled motherly affection did not extend to anyone outside of the school, no matter the circumstance.

Jean focused her attention back to the console, leaving Paige to steel herself for their encounter. She was reminded of her own uncertainty and trepidation during her early years with the team. With gaining more power, she also acquired confidence, becoming a cornerstone of the team. She could see the same metamorphosis occurring with Paige, given enough time, just like her older brother, Sam.

Behind her though, Paige thought the complete opposite, believing that she would never be able to be as amazing as Sam. Like her, he started out as a junior member, separated from the X-Men into a team of teenagers, annotated within Cerebro as the New Mutants. After leaving to join X-Force, he ultimately accepted an invitation to serve with the X-Men, fulfilling a life-long dream he often spoke about. She saw it as a reward for all of the benevolent, genuine traits he exhibited, ones that she tried her best to live up to.

Paige sat back in her seat, nervously biting her lip as her mind whirled over the entire spectrum of thoughts floating in her head. She failed to notice Vanessa, eying her with concern, until the girl interrupted Paige's internal lament.

"Are you okay, Paige?" Vanessa whispered, keeping her voice low enough for just Paige to hear. "You just don't seem to be yourself."

She sighed deeply. "I know. I've just been thinking a lot."

"About the Arminthorpe Corporation?"

"Some. Yes. I think about what would have happened if I hadn't been able to teleport all of you away from that compound."

"You can't think like that," Vanessa promptly replied. "You did what needed to be done, and we escaped. We learned a lot from that battle—about Arminthorpe and ourselves. If you beat yourself up, you'll keep doubting yourself. And that can turn into a real problem."

"I know," Paige admitted. She wasn't hearing anything that she hadn't already told herself. Still, she felt as though she needed to hear it from another person who she trusted. But despite the sound logic behind the words, she couldn't quite shake her own feelings. Continuing, she said, "It just—it wasn't a good idea to go there in the first place. And we're returning there again. I wasn't there the last time, but I read Ethan's report."

"Well, I was there. We wanted to find Dr. Cain. And we wanted to help Graylon. For better or worse, we made our decision. Just like now. You did the right thing by getting us together to help. But this isn't just about the Arminthorpe Corporation, is it?" Vanessa flicked her eyes toward Jono, who happened to be just out of earshot.

Paige's cheeks reddened. "This isn't the time to talk about that."

"It's as good of a time as any. We've been hopping from one adventure to another, so we really haven't had time to talk about this. I get the feeling that you still like Jono."

"No. I mean, yes. I—I don't know. Ethan is wonderful..."

"But you haven't made it official, have you?"

"No. We're not boyfriend and girlfriend if that's what you're asking," Paige hesitated for a moment, finding interest in nervously twirling strands of her straw-blond hair. "But he hasn't pushed the issue at all and has been understanding of my baggage. I worry about him too."

"But Jono's the angst-ridden rocker type that the nice girl secretly wants. Ethan's the good guy that you know is right, but you can't fully engage with him."

"When did you become the relationship expert? I mean, that's exactly how I feel."

"My mom always gives me good advice, though I don't always follow it. Mike and I are the same way. There's something there, but he's had a lot to deal with, so he's pulled back. I really don't know where I stand with him. So, I can understand what you're going through."

"I feel like it would be easier if I kept believing boys had cooties."

"Who said they didn't?"

The two girls looked at each other, then burst into hushed giggles, drawing a burning stare from Emma and a curious glance from Sean.

Paige said, "We haven't had much time to talk like this. With everything going on—"

"Hey. Don't make excuses. Let's make sure we make time from now on."

"Deal. And thanks."

Her vacillation almost forgotten, Paige sat back in her seat, ready for whatever unfolded within the Arminthorpe compound.

II.

The labyrinthine fortress overwhelmed a panicked Yvette Ninochka as she sprinted down yet another identical hallway. Even through her haste, she swore that the entire stronghold shifted and changed to purposefully entrap her in an endless maze. The ceiling, walls, and doors—nothing seemed discrete or varied, which made her escape almost hopeless. Still, she ran, choosing her path whimsically with the intent of hopefully stumbling on an escape route.

She whisked around a corner and heard voices in the distance—familiar ones. She recognized the English accent of Bulwark's heavy voice and Shift's lighter, but sharply tuned voice, and as they neared, Yvette determined that another confrontation would only complicate matters further. A doorway behind her made a perfect hideaway as she sunk into the darkened room. With a soft push to close the door fully, she waited, pressed against the worn wood while listening for the voices to pass.

Nervous, she chanced a glimpse over her shoulder, eying the rather spacious area. Noting the malachite colored ceiling, walls, and floor, her eyes fell upon the contraptions sprinkled about. Apprehension tightened her throat as she took deliberate, slow steps deeper into the mysterious chamber. The machinery, strange devices with restraints, cogs, and dark stains, held her attention as she had never seen anything like it before. As she neared one device, a putrid smell caught her nose and she winced, while holding back a wave of nausea.

She stopped when her eyes adjusted to the layer of gore splattered on the floor. Her hand went to her mouth in horror to keep her from crying out as she realized that she was in a torture chamber. All about her an Iron Maiden, stocks, racks, and other torturous wood and metal constructions lined the walls and cluttered the floor space.

Her body responded slowly, a step backwards becoming a concerted, clumsy effort. As chance would have it, the ball of her foot didn't quite land right, and she shifted her weight much too hastily. With her equilibrium in jeopardy, Yvette pitched backwards, unable to properly recover her balance, and toppled onto her side.

She sucked in a breath of surprise, as pain shot through her side. But then, she froze, hoping her clumsiness wasn't audible through the thick door. She strained to hear voices or another indication of an approaching entity, but it was deathly silent, save her own shallow breaths. After a moment, she climbed to her feet and rushed toward the door, wanting nothing more than to leave the death-ridden chamber behind her. Already planning her next move, Yvette opened the door.

There stood D.O.A., grinning hideously. His presence completely shocked Yvette—she could barely pull herself together as she stumbled backward, nearly slipping again on the moist floor. At the last possible second, she regained her footing, but the jarring appearance of Emplate's servant left her rattled.

"That was a cute move ya pulled back there," D.O.A. stated, through his wide smile. He rubbed the back of his head to remind her of the injury she inflicted, but his expression didn't waver.

Yvette steadied herself, maintaining a short distance between them, which gave her room to maneuver offensively or defensively, if necessary. "I won't stay here. I won't be Emplate's prisoner ever again." She could feel herself tensing at the mere thought, and her skin hardened in response. Her fair complexion regained the ruby red shine of its diamond toughness, while her hands and feet elongated into claws, regaining her most familiar look as the mutant known as Penance.

"I like yer style. Really, I do. And yer kinda cute. It helps that you're not stuck up like the boss's sister though. Tha boss has a thing fer ya. It would be easier if ya jus' went along with it."

Without a second thought of personal endangerment, Yvette lunged at him, claws extended, with the intent of either scaring him or impaling him, depending on how fast he moved. But the diminutive mutant proved much faster as he stepped into her attack and landed a solid punch to her stomach. The force behind it sent Yvette sprawling deeper into the room before she hit the ground, breathless and surprisingly hurt.

"See, ya already pissed me off with hittin' me over tha head. An' now, yer tryin' ta take my damn head off. I gave ya a chance ta come quietly, but ya seem ta want ta do this tha hard way. I hate ta have ta rough ya up, but I'm sure tha boss will understand."

Surprised, she clambered to her feet, gingerly embracing her aching midsection. Her diamond-hard skin protected her against most physical attacks, but his punch felt like being hit by a locomotive. She had discovered the upper limit of how much her skin would protect her. Any more direct hits from D.O.A. could be dangerous, even deadly.

"Come on. Yer not jus' gonna call it quits after gettin' hit one time, are ya?"

Yvette only stared at him, trying to ascertain how such a little man could possess so much raw power. He wasn't nearly as strong as Monet though, which was a good thing—if he was, that hit would have probably ended her life. Cautious, but determined, she stared him down while edging to the left.

D.O.A. stepped forward aggressively, hoping to frighten the rather skittish girl. However, her gall surprised him as she danced around him and landed a blunt strike to the bock of his head, knocking him to the ground. He sprang up quickly, knowing the girl was heading for the door. With a leap, he landed in her path, causing her to skid to a halt.

"Where did ya learn that move? It was pretty sharp. Listen, you don't want to do this. Ya could've easily taken off my head right then, but ya didn't. So let's just call it even and get back ta Emplate. Whadda say?"

She couldn't understand why he was so calm. _Because he could easily kill you,_ she realized. Negotiating the terms of her further imprisonment wasn't a part of her escape plan and neither was dying. Relaxing and focusing her emotions, she willed away her outer shell, becoming soft and vulnerable once again.

"Okay, you win," Yvette quietly resigned, stalling for time. A direct fight wouldn't bode well for her at all, considering D.O.A.'s strength, speed, and whatever other hidden abilities he possessed. She had to figure out another way to delay him long enough to escape back into the hallway. With any luck, she would be able to lose him without too much effort.

D.O.A.'s smile widened just slightly. "That's a good girl. Finally came to yer senses, eh? Tha boss'll be pleased."

The boss. Emplate. The vampiric mutant who imprisoned her for years. The utterly evil being who now fought against her friends for some heinous scheme. Anger boiled underneath her faux surrender, and Yvette pushed to develop a counter-plan before being handed over.

She glanced over her shoulder, noting a large Iron Maiden, an encasing torture device with long spikes aligned on the inside. The device was open, hungry, waiting to impale the flesh of its next victim, and the thought made Yvette sick. Ahead of her, D.O.A. beckoned for her to hurry along, but she instead scooped a handful of unidentifiable gore from the floor and hurled it towards him. The mass of carnage smacked him in the face with a sickening _plop_, then oozed down the side of his everlasting smile. Some also splattered on his coal blazer, leaving a dark streak as it slid down.

"Ya've picked up some bad habits from those damned kids. And now, ya've crossed tha line."

She drew back, knowing that her life depended on these next few seconds.

Using another move she saw Kiana utilize, she sidestepped, turning only partially out of his path of rampage. Then she sank low with a quick sweep, using her own momentum to power her defensive maneuver. The technique was flawless, hitting D.O.A. in the perfect spot between his ankle and knees to where the force from his forward thrust caused him to fall forward, sailing through the air. Only a moment too late, he saw the yearning, indiscriminate desire of the Iron Maiden for flesh, and flailing, he couldn't stop himself as he landed right in its clutches. And to his horror, the front slammed behind him.

As his gut-wrenching scream tore through the room, Yvette retreated, barely able to see through the blur of tears. She slammed the door behind her, muting the agonizing bellows, but the cries still rang in her ears. Her eyes clenched shut, trying to push away the vision of D.O.A.'s body being devoured by the torturous device, then she simply dashed forward, away from the horror.

But her venture was short-lived as she suddenly ran into an inexplicable dead end. And behind her, she heard the distinct growls of a monster.

III.

After Jean programmed the final coordinates into the aircraft console, she removed her headset and raked her fingers through her fire red hair, smoothing her long locks. "I'm going to take a short break to the back," she announced to her co-pilot, Kurt.

He nodded, his three-digit hands moving nimbly over the console. Though his overall time teaming with her had been short, he respected her as the stitching that held the quilt together—she was caring and always thought about the rest of the team's well-being. And this time was no different, as he noticed the change in a particular teammate of theirs—Peter Rasputin.

Codenamed Colossus for his ability to increase his mass and strength through the shifting of his skin to organic steel, he had an artist's mind and a hero's heart. Introspective and valiant, he served as the moral compass for the team, especially when situations developed that put them into morally or ethically compromising positions. He wasn't particularly outspoken, but he would politely and respectfully share his standpoint with the team leader, many times changing the course of action. However, that changed with the death of his family and sister, Illyana.

Disillusioned, he joined Magneto's Acolytes, a band of mutants who blindly and fervently supported the idea of mutant superiority. Ultimately, he returned to the X-Men, much wiser and experienced, solidifying his position within their ranks. At that point, he had come to terms with the death that had surrounded him. Then Illyana reappeared.

Kurt still didn't quite understand the girl's resurrection, save the secondhand explanation Jean relayed. However, she suddenly existed, and he was sure that Peter wanted to understand and accept that his sister was really alive. But when Scott organized and dispatched the various teams, the siblings were separated after their brief reunion. Since that point, he hadn't spoken to anyone and had taken a seat in the absolute back of the Blackbird.

He knew that Jean planned on talking with Peter. They needed his strength, and they needed him to be focused. If anyone could remotely understand his feelings, it would be her.

Making minor adjustments on the console, she gave him an appreciative smile before she released the seatbelt, then slipped into the passenger part of the aircraft. She made her way down the aisle, through hushed conversation between Vanessa and Paige, taking the empty seat across from Peter.

The six-foot-six Russian kept his pensive, steely eyes locked on the night sky, his firm jaw clenched, forming his thin lips into a firm frown. He glanced back at Jean, giving her an obviously forced smile before turning back to the window. "I know why you are here, Jean."

"And here I thought I was the team telepath," she lightly joked, eliciting a half-smile from her teammate. Taking a soft tone, she said, "It was tough for all of us to see Illyana, but I can't imagine what it's like for you."

He paused for a moment, studying the night sky before answering. "It almost doesn't feel real. As if it all happened in my imagination. It took me a long time to move past her death. And now, she stood before me exactly as I remembered her as a teenager. Is that really my Snowflake?"

"You're the one who can best answer that. You'll know within your heart if she is truly your sister. But as of now, I have no doubt that the young woman we saw was indeed the Illyana we knew."

Peter sighed. "We've had so much death amongst our ranks. It made me understand the fragility of life. But in our world, we also tend to have resurrections, but is it good that our deceased can be alive again? Or are we just biding our time until we lose them again? Is that kind of pain worth experiencing time and time again?"

Jean paused at the unexpected, complicated question. But before she could answer, Kurt announced that they were three minutes from their destination. Having something to think about, she responded, "That's my cue. Peter, just know that we're here to support you and Illyana. We'll get through this, and you'll be able to see her again."

"I hope so. Thank you, Jean."

She gently touched his shoulder, gave him a warm smile, then took her place back at the front.

Jean glided the Blackbird into a gentle turn, reduced the throttle, and activated the hover mode, leaving them floating two hundred feet above the Arminthorpe Corporation compound. Her emerald eyes flicked to the monitor in the center, and the exact thing that Paige Guthrie had predicted was reality: the mutant-populated facilities were overrun with Emplates. A quick mental scan revealed no sign of another human, furthering her concern. However, she also ascertained that the buildings were heavily shielded against telepathic probes of any sort.

_They must have a lot to hide,_ she determined, raising her personal suspicions of the Corporation's intent. She, alongside Scott Summers, James "Logan" Howlett, Ororo Munroe, and Professor Charles Xavier, received the overview briefing of the Arminthorpe Corporation investigation weeks ago, given by Sean and Emma.

On the surface, it seemed like a standard story—a multi-billion dollar corporation, purporting good will and servitude, served as a front for activities far less benevolent. The charges were that they kidnapped a high-profile geneticist, Dr. Niles Cain, and were in pursuit of seven teenaged mutants for reasons unknown. However, as the saga unfolded, the motivations and actions of the Corporation became villainous and convoluted.

Bishop offered to use the leverage of the XSE, the United Nations team sanctioned to serve as a mutant police force, to raid the Corporation. But the Professor refused to support such an action, citing the lack of evidence of any wrong-doing and the upheaval to Snow Valley, since from experience, he knew that an organization like that would have underground ties to dangerous organizations, ones that would take revenge against the innocent citizens. As much as it pained him, he wanted to approach the investigation slowly and methodically, keeping the danger and collateral damage to the bare minimum. But the raid by the students complicated the situation by launching an offensive against the Corporation, endangering themselves in the process.

So, it was no surprise that there were defensive measures in place. But such strong telepathic barriers meant that they had a reasonably powerful telepath at their disposal. Given enough time, she could break through, but trying to so immediately and haphazardly would run the risk of a potentially fatal psionic backlash against the individual creating the barriers. Until they knew more, they would have to go in blind.

"Ze area is overrun with zeeze...abominations," Kurt gasped, studying the surveillance monitor. "And zere is some kind of magical energy field spreading from this location."

"We've got to get down there, quickly," Paige said from the backseat.

"Phoenix, I shall take ze lead," Kurt offered.

Jean nodded, already understanding his plan of action. "We'll be right behind you," she said, giving implicit agreement for him to press ahead.

Kurt disappeared with a _bamf_, leaving behind a purple haze and stench of brimstone. When he reappeared, his opponents were caught completely off-guard, lacking the intelligence to understand the concept of teleportation, which served to his advantage. Using a combination of acrobatics, combat techniques, and a well-timed vanishing act, he put eleven Emplates out of commission before the others even had the chance to land.

As he counterattacked against another creature, a circle of light appeared, illuminating the area as two figures stepped out. He faced them, hoping that Amanda Sefton had elected to join them, but instead found a young man and woman emerging with haste.

"Looks like things are already bad here," Damien Sarantenos assessed. His dark eyes scanned the area, noting the fallen Emplates. "But someone's already playing clean-up."

"Damn. These things move quick. I wonder who—" Mina Laroché scanned the area until her eyes landed on a demonic figure, who eyed them with just as much curiosity. "You, demon boy," she called.

"Are you speaking to me?" Kurt asked, bewildered by the duo's sudden appearance.

"Who else would I be talking to?"

Kurt waved his finger disapprovingly. "Ze rude attitude ist unbecoming, fraulein. I am not your peer, nor am I one of your servants from Limbo."

"I know exactly who you are, son of Azazel."

Hearing his father's name, Kurt tensed. "It seems that you know much of me, yet I do not know you."

Before any more words could be exchanged, a soft amber glow appeared above them. Jean, surrounded by the corona of the Phoenix, lowered herself and the rest of the team to the ground, courtesy of her telekinesis.

As soon as they landed, Paige spied the two newcomers, instantly recognizing the female. "It's you!" she said, surprised.

"Who is th' lass?" Sean inquired.

"Mina Laroché," Paige answered with the most disdain she could muster. "She's in league with Arminthorpe, and she's the one who tried to destroy evidence of Dr. Cain's kidnapping. She tried to kill us."

Mina placed her hands on her hips and gave a mocking, annoying laugh, reminiscent of some evil anime character. "Ho, ho, ho! Kill is such a dramatic viewpoint. Incapacitate, yes. Kill...hardly. You kids were much too easy. I would have felt like a bully."

"Knock it off," Emma snapped, annoyed. "We don't need your pathetic attempts at being haughty and standoffish. If you haven't attacked us already, you must have switched sides as a matter of self-preservation. And your little male escort must be a companion from whatever hellish dimension you decided to step out from."

"Little male escort?" Damien angrily repeated. "I'll have you know—"

Mina cocked an eyebrow and cut off Damien's reply. As much as she didn't like the woman in white, they didn't have the time to get into a verbal farce. Instead, she did her best to explain quickly, "We're assisting because Mistress Sefton has commanded it. Emplate is attempting to create an amalgamation between here and Limbo. He dispatched his Emplates to capture the remaining mutants here. He can channel their energy on this side to synch with the energy from Limbo. Voilà! Dimensional merge."

"That is so tired and trite of him. I'm sure Jean here can tally up the thousands of times some demonic upstart has tried the same thing and failed. I guess these imbeciles failed to do their homework."

_ "I see what you did there...we're at a school. And you said homework..."_ Jono noticed, but telepathically broadcast it so only Paige and Vanessa would hear. They cracked a smile in response, especially because it would so out-of-character for Jono to even catch something like that, let alone make a joke about it.

"If that is the case," Jean took over as acting field leader, wanting to curtail the escalating attitudes, "then you must be here to close it from this side."

"Correct," Mina answered, responding more kindly to Jean's gentler tone. "Your teams are making their way through Limbo, destroying Emplate's various sources of power. He's weakening, but if the dimensional merge succeeds, he'll regain his strength."

Kurt deduced, "If he's using the mutants here to power ze merger, then we must free them."

"Do you have any idea where the remaining mutants are?" Jean asked.

"No clue," Damien said, after Mina shook her head.

Jean responded, "We'll have to investigate. Banshee, take Sable, Chamber, and Husk. Check the eastern area. White Queen, take our two new team members—"

"Necra and Salem," Mina clarified.

"—and Nightcrawler. Check the northern area. The main building is located there. Colossus, you're with me. We'll take the western area. Telepathy isn't an option, and the magical energy is interfering with ground comms. We'll have to do this the old-fashioned way. We'll rally back here in twenty minutes. If you aren't back, we'll find you. Let's stop this madness before—"

"You'll have to get by us first, infidels," Buff announced as she rounded a corner.

Emma rolled her eyes. "You know, it's one cliché thing after another with you people. Now isn't really the time to get in our way, unless you feel like getting you and your friends a serious lesson in why it doesn't pay to serve a maniacal mutant madman."

_"Wait. That was two in one—an alliteration and a school reference. Are you doin' that on purpose?"_ Jono again broadcasted to Vanessa and Paige, who simply smiled.

"Hmph," Buff scoffed. "You should probably be more concerned about your choice in apparel. I figured that most of the X-Men females dressed respectfully. I stand corrected. But I'll give you a few fashion tips after I kick your ass."

"Hey! That's our headmistress you're talking about! She may dress a little scandalous, but you're just downright crazy!" Vanessa shouted back.

Emma said, "I'm not sure if I should be impressed by your gall or insulted by your veiled slight."

"Choose the former, Ms. Frost." Vanessa responded, making Emma smile.

"Your mind is clouded," Jean said. "We can help you—"

"No! You're not going to ruin our master's intent on remaking this pitiful world," buff countered.

"Jean, darling," Emma said, "you do realize by now that talking never works."

"Tis not true, lass." Sean snapped his head towards Buff, took in a deep breath, and when he exhaled, it carried a scream like no other—a bass-filled bombardment of raw sound. The force knocked Buff completely off her feet, casting her into a cluster of bushes several feet behind her. "Sometimes, ye've got t' shout t' be heard."

Buff shouted as she climbed to her feet, "Stop them! Emplate demands it!" The Emplates responded to her orders, converging on the team.

"Subdue and detain, X-Men! Remember the plan!" Jean commanded.

Mina gestured fluidly with her hands—a minor flick of the wrist, accompanied with distinctive placement of her fingers—with devastating effects. The ground immediately around her vibrated then cracked as amber light shone through someplace deep within the earth. Her eyes reflected the same earthly light, and she grinned eagerly as she uttered a final command. The cracks spread within a second, disrupting the ground underneath the converging Emplates, then the mysterious light tore through, completely disintegrating the creatures.

The other X-Men and members of Generation X executed the same level of aggressiveness towards the Emplates and found bouts of success as they maneuvered according to Jean's plan.

Sean soared only a few feet from the ground, using his sonic scream as a battering ram, clearing the path for Vanessa, Paige, and Chamber, who traveled behind him on foot. The concussive sound waves pummeled the frail Emplates, hitting them with the impact of a speeding freight train. Any who managed to still stand afterward were swiftly taken out with a biokinetic blast from Jono or a Darkforce burst from Vanessa. Paige had shredded her outer skin to transform into hardened steel, so she challenged any Emplates that were bold enough to get too close and defeated them soundly.

The team easily paved a path to their investigatory area—the eastern portion of the Arminthorpe Corporation campus. They rounded the corner of a modern concrete facility and entered a desolate area void of Emplates. The grassy area was sprinkled with benches, a gazebo, and plenty of plants to create a lush nature scene. If it hadn't been for the attacking Emplate and current circumstances, it would have been a beautiful to relax within.

"I don't like this. It's way too quiet," Paige said. But when the ground shifted beneath them, she thought that her words had somehow sealed their fate.

The previously firm ground softened then felt alive as it slithered up her legs. Horrified, she was instantly reminded of the similar attack by Mina Laroché while they were investigating Dr. Cain's residence. Remembering her near-death experience, she thrashed helplessly, crying out for help, but as her eyes wildly darted around for her teammates, she found that they too were in the same predicament.

"What—what's happening?!" Vanessa cried out in horror as she sank into the murky puddle. She felt the familiarity of Darkforce energy, but no matter how desperately she tried to control it, it failed to respond. As if it had a mind of its own, it swiftly pulled her down as she reached for Sean.

He reached back for her, but he too couldn't pull himself from the portal's grasp. And to his horror, Jono and Paige completely disappeared into the murky void. "Hold—on—lass—" he said while struggling against the force. But in only a few seconds, both he and Vanessa were pulled under, destination unknown.

IV.

Miranda Vaughn studied the various screens on the console, searching for the staff and young charges of the Arminthorpe Corporation. Though they all had a negative disposition and didn't respond well at all to her, she did worry about them, especially the teens. They were too blind to realize their own frailty, and Mason Arminthorpe's warped mentorship didn't help at all. If the invading Emplate's overtook them all as Casey alluded to, then they not only would have had their first taste of defeat, but they were also in grave danger.

On the screen in the upper left, she caught a glance of Mason, who just barely appeared within range of the camera, unleash a bolt of energy into the chest of an oncoming Emplate. If there was anyone she wasn't worried about, it was him. He was powerful and dangerous, so it would be near impossible to take him down.

A flickering screen on the lower left caught her eye. The feed has some kind of interference as static and bars skewed the picture. But in a moment of clarity, she sat forward, and her mouth fell open in shock and a chill went down her back as she studied the screen.

A containment unit, a cylindrical, liquid filled pod with glass walls, was the main focus of the camera. But it wasn't so much that a person was floating within that liquid, connected to a breathing apparatus and several other wires—the surprise was the person floating within the device. And no matter how many times she blinked, the image didn't change.

Mason Arminthorpe.

She flicked her eyes back to the other screen, in time to catch Mason clearly engaged in a battle with a pack of Emplates. And when she went back to the screen, an identical person floated within the containment unit.

_An impostor?_ At first, the thought seemed so fantastic that she almost laughed in spite of herself. But thinking back to Mason's behavior and his obsession with mutant genetics, it would actually be a plausible explanation. But that would mean everything that she knew to this point was wrong. And the current mission of the Corporation wasn't Mason Arminthorpe's plan, but someone else's. Niles's kidnapping wasn't orchestrated my Mason, and it wasn't his goal to pursue the kids of Project Genesis. It was the motivation of this fraud.

_But why?_

No matter which way she approached the situation, she couldn't figure out why someone would go through the trouble of posing as Mason Arminthorpe. Sure, the Corporation was the leader in the field of genetics, but the work was nothing extraordinary that would draw the attention of some nefarious, complex plot, headed by some disguise-wearing fake. Besides, what would this impostor hope to gain? What was he achieving now?

The questions dizzied her, and she had to place her hands on the console to maintain a sense of equilibrium. Everything the Corporation had accomplished to this point was under the direction of a foreign entity with cloaked ulterior motives. And the ultimate goal was completely unknown, which suddenly made it all seem sinister and evil.

Movement on another screen caught her eye. Turning her attention there, she saw the students from Xavier's with their Irish headmaster, wandering amongst similar containment units. If there were more than one, other people must have been held captive as well, barely alive, for concealed reasons.

"Niles, Casey!" she called, surprised that she had strength at all to do so. When the duo arrived over her shoulder, she pointed to the screen, but when she turned to the screen for the imprisoned Mason Arminthorpe, the picture was gone, replaced by snow and static. "These containment units, what level are they on? I've never seen any of this before."

"Neither have I," Niles added.

"Level X-6," Casey answered. He caught the accusing stares of both Miranda and Niles, but he said nothing to address it. "We'll have to take Mason's elevator. No other elevator can access it. It's below the other experimental levels, where you did most of your work."

"What's in the containment units?" Niles directly asked with an accusing tone.

Casey shrugged. "You'll see when we get down there. But we should hurry. If they don't get attacked by Emplates, something else may get them."

Notes:

X-Men, Generation X, and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional.


	47. Emplate's Revenge, Part 15

I.

The darkness was alive.

Though it was the essence of nothing, the absence of light, there was definitely a sentient presence. And it hungered.

The feeling only lasted a mere second, but for Paige Guthrie, it felt like an eternity. The frigid grasp of the void clung to her long after she and her three teammates emerged into a sterile, but dim laboratory. The thermal controls within her uniform did nothing to eradicate the lingering frigidity and uneasiness caused by their surprise teleportation.

She rubbed her arms hastily, before checking the electronic devices for functionality. As the X-Drive interface screen lit up, she asked, "Um, did anyone else find that weird? Sam warned me about teleportation, but that was...different." The soft glow of the screen gave her a bit of relief as her index finger swiped the touch screen.

"Aye," Sean Cassidy strongly agreed. "Th' disorientation should wear off. If ye think that was odd, ye should try it with Nightcrawler," he said, hoping to set them at ease. But in all his years of teleporting with various superheroes, that was the first time he ever felt mentally unsettled. Even more disturbing was the fact that their teleporter was completely unknown and nowhere to be seen.

_"Where in the bloody 'ell are we?"_ Jono Starsmore telepathically asked his teammates as he studied the area around them. Though dim, he could make out large containment units, wide cylinders with a metallic base and top, glass viewing walls, and liquid-filled, aligned in lengthy rows with complicated consoles next to each one. Upon closer inspection, each one had a figure suspended within, floating upright but unconscious—maybe not even alive. He shuddered at the thought and turned away.

Lab tables were scattered throughout the expanse, and they were loaded with intricate devices, probably for some kind of micro-analysis. Strange jarred liquids, some with and some without labels, added splashes of color to the otherwise industrial appearance. There were plenty of computers around with LED monitors attached, serving as workstations for the swarming technicians on a normal day.

Vanessa Wallace answered, "I think we're inside one of the labs on the compound. But I don't think I've seen this one before." Like Paige, she too felt shaken after their jaunt. Vocalizing her concern, she continued, "And that portal that brought us here, it was Darkforce, just like those weird things we fought back when we first met you guys. But there's something different about it. It doesn't feel like the same power."

In the past, Hank had briefly spoken of research on Darkforce, which presented a hypothesis that it may be corruptive because of some kind of sentient influence. At the time, Sean scoffed at the fanciful conclusion, not fully comprehending how energy could be considered negatively pervasive. But after this experience, he was sure that the extra-dimensional energy needed more analysis and that there was something inherently dangerous about it.

Paige streaked her finger across the touch screen, then tapped out lengthy commands on the virtual keyboard. "I just checked the stats on known Darkforce users. There's a fractional difference in the cellular x-factor. That's what dictates the level of control and potential developmental aspect of mutant powers. I analyzed the residual energy from the portal, and honestly, there aren't any Darkforce users in the database that match those numbers."

"Lass, yuir soundin' more and more like Hank every day," Sean complimented, but his scowl remained. He too studied their foreign surroundings, his suspicions growing with each passing second. Whoever brought them here wanted them to see this place. But why?

Vanessa pondered the information passed from Paige, which made total sense to her. Understanding gave way to more questions as a frown formed. "I don't remember anyone here having the same power as me. But if there is someone like that, then they have to be here somewhere," she glanced around, with the sudden feeling that they were being watched.

"Aye. We need t' find a way out o' here an' get back t' th' others. Stay alert," Sean warned as he took the lead, navigating through the closest row of containment units. Paige and Vanessa fell in behind him, while Jono brought up the rear. The foursome stealthily maneuvered through the lab, unaware that hundreds of eyes were watching them intently.

II.

Yvette Ninochka pressed herself against the frigid wall, holding her breath as the husky growl neared. A heaping shadow rose from around the corner—whatever creature possessed it was massive and misshapen. She imagined elongated, aged teeth, protruding from a grotesquely large mouth and dripping with acid-like saliva. Of course, its eyes had to be circles of a black abyss, nearly covered by shaggy, unkempt hair.

It seemed impossible that she would emerge victorious from an encounter with D.O.A., only to end up a victim of a hellish demon that roamed the fortress corridors. But she had only moments left before another fight for her life erupted. And there were no Iron Maidens to lure the beast into. Or any other convenient traps for a cliché defeat. It was just her and the looming beast.

The silhouette drew closer, and Yvette steeled herself, waiting for the first glimpse of the horrific monstrosity. But there was a flash of light on the other side, excited shouting, commotion, explosions, then silence. Confused, she tiptoed forward, and stopped at the corner, barely peeking around its concealing edge. The scene shocked her—first, the stalking creature, just as horrible as she imagined, was toppled on its side, unmoving. Then her eyes strayed to the group of individuals standing next to it, talking in hushed whispers, despite having caused quite the commotion only moments ago.

It only took her another moment to realize that she recognized the people standing in a huddle. One of the members turned to Yvette and smiled as she blew off her index finger. "Hey, what's up, Penny?" Jubilation Lee smiled with a wink.

Yvette's heart swelled with joy and relief. She broke into a smile, almost immediately transforming from her hardened exterior to her normal skin. She dashed over and wrapped her arms around Jubilee, surprising the girl, who laughed in response. There were other sounds of relief and merriment at the young girl's timely return.

"Hey, it's like good ta see you too!" Jubilee stated delightfully. "But when didja like get tha whole transformation thing totally down?" she asked, only then realizing her mistake. Up to this point, the young girl was presumed to be mute and deaf—there was no way she would be able to answer.

Yvette pulled back from the embrace and looked up at her with bright blue eyes. "I—it just happened. I thought about something happy, and I changed."

Jubilee dropped to one knee and hugged the girl again, tears stinging the corners of her eyes. "Dude, you like talked! I—I'm so glad!" she embraced the girl firmly, as her heart beamed with joy.

Everett Thomas closed the gap, placing his hand on Yvette's shoulder. He too was in disbelief at the girl's complete transformation from the most skittish, silent member of the team, to a shy young girl, no older than them. "We were worried about you," he quietly said with a tender smile. He felt the same as Jubilee, grateful for Yvette's change. "We're glad to see you're okay."

"Th—thank you," she said through her own tears of happiness. She held onto Jubilee tightly—she had forgotten how warm and secure a caring hug felt. And she wanted to make sure that she remembered this moment for the rest of her life.

Rich crossed his arms, grateful for Yvette but still keenly aware of the looming threat. "As touching as this is, we're in the middle of—"

"Can it!" Jubilee shot. She maintained the embrace and was ready to verbally lash out, when Logan placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. His gesture said the same thing but belayed more consideration and gentleness. "Yeah, I'm like cool," she rubbed her eyes and put on a tough look. But she didn't let go of Yvette's hand. And the young girl held on tightly.

As if someone far away was watching, a vertical stepping disk appeared against the far wall, beckoning them with its warm light. The path beyond the portal was obscured by the amber glow, but Logan knew for sure that Emplate was on the other side.

Logan didn't like the idea of taking the teens into an even more dangerous situation than they had just encountered. If he had his way, he would have sent all of them back to the school, and trekked forward by himself. But there was no way back for them.

"Listen up," he announced to the team. "I've got tha feelin' that we're headin' into tha fight that decides it all. No one will fault ya if ya stay here. It'll be dangerous, and as much as I want ta, I can't guarantee that we'll all come back together. If ya want out, now's yer chance."

He scanned the group, moving from each student to the next, all of them had the fire of determination in their eyes and the focus of someone that wanted nothing but justice to be wrought. Though in his mind, he still saw them as teenagers, they were well beyond their years, deserving of his respect. The steely resolve they emanated reflected their readiness to face whatever lie on the other side of the portal.

Concerned about Yvette, he asked, "Kid, are ya hurt?"

"N—no," she replied, shrinking back just slightly against the man's gruff voice. But a squeeze from Jubilee reassured her that there was no harm.

"Do ya have enough in ya ta fight?"

"Yes. I do," Yvette confidently answered, despite the fear that gripped her. But the warmth of Jubilee's hand and being surrounded by the determination of the others gave her strength to fight—to make sure she was Emplate's last victim.

Logan gave his final warning, "I don't know what's on tha other side, so be ready fer anythin'." With a nod, he turned and led the youngsters into the circle of light, onward to the final battle against Emplate.

III.

When the Emplates simply ceased to exist, the only logical conclusion Jean Grey-Summers could draw was that the team in Limbo succeeded. Her teammates and the students of the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters somehow discovered the source of the deviants and eradicated it, hopefully saving the townspeople in the process.

"Looks like we may have a win under our belt," she said to Peter Rasputin, the X-Man known as Colossus. Tossing her red hair over her shoulder, she caught her breath—fighting a seemingly endless horde of Emplates with her telekinesis and hand-to-hand techniques left her slightly winded. Her teammate breathed deeply as well, his organic steel skin reflecting the ambient light within the grounds.

At this point, Jean wasn't quite sure if the others had encountered the same volume of enemies. Several minutes ago, she split them into teams to cover the area more efficiently, despite knowing the risk—it was imperative for them to find the rest of the mutants housed within the Arminthorpe Corporation before Emplate found them. At least now, they could investigate without the looming danger of being immediately attacked.

A figure approached from around the corner. "You X-Men and your students never cease to amaze me. I'm Mason Arminthorpe," he introduced himself.

"Do not congratulate us just yet," Peter said, his Russian accent cutting his words crisply. "We must find your mutants as well. Do you have any idea where they are? They could be in terrible danger."

Mason nodded. "I responded to the attack after the team, and I couldn't keep track of them. I honestly have no idea where they would be—" he was interrupted by a flash of light that caught the corner of his eye, followed by a collection of howls. He locked eyes with Jean and Peter for only a split second before they sprinted toward the tortured voices. He burst back into the main building through the glass doors and froze.

The entire lobby area had been transformed from a modern design of glass, marble, and metal into a hellish landscape. The teenaged mutants in servitude to the Arminthorpe Corporation were lying on their backs—unconscious—placed in a circle with their torso and head pointing toward the center. An ethereal glow swirled around their bodies and then poured into a glowing circle of light in the center of the formation. Mason then noticed the intricate drawings on the floor, foreign symbols that could only have to do with arcane practices.

"This building, it's already merging with Limbo," Mason stated.

Jean paused, expecting a different response. She was horrified that the Corporation's young men and women had fallen victim to circumstances well-beyond their control. They seemingly didn't stand a chance against the onslaught of Emplates and were now helpless, being used to fuel a dimensional merger.

It wasn't as if she hadn't seen something like this before when the demons of Limbo threatened to take over the world. Even then, the invasion was horrific, and many people were injured or killed during the event. She vowed to never let something like that happen again. And here they were—at the beginning of the end.

She stole a glance at Peter, whose horrific expression relayed the sharing of her sentiment. However, Mason remained expressionless and unsettlingly cavalier about the situation.

"We must pull them away," Peter reacted, stepping forward to start the rescue.

"If you do that, you'll kill them," Mina Laroché said, halting Peter. She sauntered into the area from another entrance apparently, followed by her companion, Daniel Sarantenos. Emma Frost and Kurt Wagner were close behind.

Noticing the questioning stares, Daniel promptly followed with an explanation. "Their souls are intertwined with the spell. If you just pull them out now, their souls will be pulled into Limbo. We have to try to either reverse the spell or use a counter-spell. That's the only way we can save them _and_ stop the merger."

Jean understood. "Nightcrawler," she addressed, "the others...?"

Kurt shook his head. "Ve cannot find Sean and his team," he quietly reported. "Zey could not have gone far, but ve cannot be sure."

She silently cursed, regretting the idea of splitting the team up. But Sean was quite capable and could easily handle any situation they came upon. If anything, he may have discovered something that would solve the current mysteries surrounding the Corporation. With the disappearance of the Emplates, the chances that they were in immediate danger were narrow, all things considered. Still, she didn't want to go too much longer without knowing their whereabouts.

To Mina and Damien, Jean asked, "What do you need from us to stop the merger?"

Mina replied, "The counter spell is going to release a lot of energy, and it could bring this building down. Phoenix, right? Can you use your telekinesis to contain it?"

"We don't have a choice. I'll do it," Jean responded. Almost instantly, she was reminded of the venture that forever changed her life—volunteering to pilot a damaged shuttle through a radiation belt. The overwhelming energies would have killed her totally, had the Phoenix not intervened. Her vast abilities, coupled with the powers of the Phoenix would be more than enough to handle protecting the others from the spell...so she hoped.

Cosmic energy was one thing, but the forces created by magic were fundamentally different and unpredictable. She didn't quite understand the intricate details, but she did know that Dr. Stephen Strange and Hank McCoy had warned her of the potential dangers of a clash between the two. But with the pending calamity, she had no time to second-guess her decision.

"Nightcrawler, get Mason, Colossus, and the White Queen out of here," Jean directed.

Kurt hesitated for a split second, his glowing amber eyes heavy with concern. "Jean, will you be okay?"

"I'll be fine," she said, while giving him a telepathic reassurance. She glanced over the others, then rested her emerald eyes back on him. "Just find Sean and the others."

He complied without further inquiries, and within the next moment, a _bamf_ followed by the stench of brimstone filled the room, and they were gone.

"Phoenix, are you ready?" Mina asked.

Jean steadied herself and inhaled deeply, relaxing her body and mind. Her eyes closed gently as she reached deep into herself to draw as much power as possible. As her eyes opened, the emerald twinkle was replaced by a white-hot glow. The same energy emanated from her body as she spread her arms to the side, casting it outward until is surrounded the entire area. And for a brief flash, the corona of a firebird surrounded her.

Mina stood still, enraptured by the sheer beauty of the scene. Never had she seen anyone summon such raw power of cosmic origin, let alone sustain a connection to that kind of energy. She had doubts, but after seeing what the X-Man could do, she was sure that the rest of the ground would be protected.

Closing her eyes, she began the litany of the spell that would save the world.

IV.

Vanessa followed Sean as they ventured farther into the lab. The scenery didn't change much as they progressed—they were flanked by large containment units that were too dark to tell if something was actually inside or not, computers that hummed softly in their sleep mode, and plenty of desks stacked with papers she didn't even want to begin to read.

She felt nervous, like a detective heroine investigating the secret lab, only to discover that—

Vanessa froze in her tracks, noting that Sean had paused too and had his hand in the air with the universal sign to stop. She held her breath, and that's when she heard far-off shuffling, as if someone were attempting to be stealthy. "Banshee, I heard something. I—I think there's someone else down here with us," she said, more for her own comfort than for his information. Judging from the way he cocked his head, he heard it too.

Sean waited only another moment before he stated, "Ye've got a fraction of a second t' say somethin' before I do."

The muted shuffling became audible footsteps that quickly advanced toward them. A flashlight beamed around one of the corners, and three figures approached the group. Sean held fast, ready to belt out an offensive bellow if needed.

"No sonic screams necessary," Casey Chamberlain said, as he and his two companions finally came into view.

"An' who might ye be?"

Vanessa audibly gasped. "I don't believe it! Dr. Cain?! You're okay?!"

"Relatively speaking, yes. It's good to see you, Vanessa."

"You're Dr. Cain?" Paige asked, genuinely surprised.

In her mind, she imagined him to resemble Professor Xavier—a regal, older gentleman, not really amazingly handsome, but not unattractive either. Instead, she was looking at a ruggedly handsome man—strong jawline, dark stubble to match his thick hair, an intense gaze that was nearly hypnotizing. His broad build and muscularity showed through his button-down and khakis. There was no way that a guy like that was a stuffy geneticist, confined to a lab all day, let alone someone who was just imprisoned for the past several weeks.

"Yes," he answered. "And this is Miranda Vaughn and Casey Chamberlain."

Miranda's wavy, auburn hair fell past her shoulders, framing her model-like and flawless face. Her features were distinct, blending a sharp intensity and a soft lusciousness that made her beautiful by any standard. Her slacks and blouse clung to her hourglass figure, making Paige second-guess whether she was an employee of Arminthorpe or some actress.

The least glamorous of the three, Casey appeared to be the same age as Paige. His shaggy hair and slender frame seemed to suit him just fine. She wondered if he was one of the mutants that fought directly against the rest of the team, but considering his appearance, she doubted it. He must operate in some sort of support capacity, at least, that's what she deduced, all things given.

"Ah wish we were meetin' under better circumstances," Sean offered as he shook hands.

Casey began explaining, propping himself against one of the tables quite casually. "Right. We've been monitoring this whole Emplate situation from here. Things aren't looking too good. The merger between our realm and Limbo has started. Luckily, it hasn't reached the lower levels. It's spreading slowly."

"The rest of the team is taking care of that," Paige clarified. "We've been monitoring the situation as well, and we saw that this place was attacked by the Emplates. We wanted to help."

"You wanted to help us? After what happened—" Casey said.

"They haven't made it into these lower levels. There could be some kind of field preventing them from entering. It's probably similar to the field in the Sanctuary. That's where we evacuate the staff to in the event of an emergency mutant or otherwise," Miranda explained. "Considering this place is nearly impossible to get to for people who actually work here, how did you get down here?" Casey asked.

Vanessa answered, "A portal. Darkforce. The same Darkforce that powers your attack dogs."

"Darkforce?" Niles repeated. He thought for a moment, then said, "There was someone else who controlled it, but they aren't here."

"Actually, you're wrong, Casey contradicted, drawing a puzzled glance from Niles. "He's here, among so many others," he said, redirecting the beam of his flashlight into the containment unit. A figure was suspended in the liquid with a breathing apparatus connected to his nose and mouth. Bubbles rose every so often, signifying that the person was at least breathing. Otherwise, he was deathly still.

"Wait, this is where the Darkforce is coming from," Vanessa discovered as she neared the glass. She placed her hand on it, and felt a tingling sensation, like the person inside was reaching for her. Her hand turned cold, and she drew back quickly, startled. It went unnoticed by the others, but she made sure to keep distance between herself and the individual inside of that unit.

Paige studied the console next to the containment unit. "I think I can directly connect into the system from here," she determined as she pulled a USB cable from the device. After connecting it, it only took an additional few commands to log into the system.

The file system was easy to maneuver through, having a robust user interface. She quickly pulled up the information assigned to the containment unit she was patched into. "According to the dossier," she explained while skimming the information for highlights, "he's codenamed Eclipse. He's actually half-human, related to Nightside of the Imperial Guard. Apparently, this alien race can control Darkforce energy naturally. Anyways, Nightside's brother is his father. His mother is unnamed, but she apparently had a latent mutant ability to use Darkforce energy too."

Niles rubbed his stubble. "Biologically speaking, it's a match made in heaven. The genes would merge to create a being with stronger Darkforce control. This is a critical part of some of our studies. We're investigating the merger of various mutant genes for a better prediction of the resulting mutant ability. Ultimately, someone could manipulate two different mutant genes into a single powerful entity. This is a prime example of that. But why is he being kept here?"

"Because Mason kidnapped him just like he did you. I—I think he brought us here to see this. He wanted us to see all of this. We have to do something. We have to free these people."

Sean disagreed. "We cannae simply snatch any o' them from th' containment unit. It could be th' only thing keepin' th' lad alive."

"We can't just leave them here," Vanessa argued. But she thought about the strange feeling she got from the other Darkforce controller, which made her resolve waiver slightly. There was the distinct possibility that they could all be dangerous, worse than the other teenaged mutants that worked for Arminthorpe voluntarily. But her humanity outweighed her sense of personal danger, so she didn't express her concern immediately.

"Sean's right," Niles said. "His vitals are being stabilized by this machine."

Miranda quipped, "But it's also allowing his power to be controlled. He's not really living."

"He would die outside of that machine," Casey plainly stated. "His powers overwhelmed him two years ago during a training session. I don't know all the details, but it was like the Darkforce tried to absorb everything. They were barely able to contain it—that's how he ended up here."

"So, he is dangerous..." Vanessa regretfully said. She kept herself from giving the mystery Darkforce user, Eclipse, another glance.

_"Bloody ruthless. Instead of tryin' to 'elp the bloke, they decide to exploit 'im." _Jono stated.

"You're right," Niles regretfully said. "That's the only explanation I can come up with for this lab. Arminthorpe needed a place to house the mutants whose powers were uncontrollable or unstable. Under these conditions, he can control their power utilization and output through chemicals and drugs. He can also study them in-depth. I would have thought that they were totally unaware of the world around them, but considering that Spencer was able to communicate with you, Vanessa, I think that they're aware, just helpless."

Niles let his gaze wander to the containment unit next to them. He checked the chart attached to the machine, startled by what he found.

"This young man, Carter Ghazikhanian—there's a medical staffer, Annie, with the same last name. I've met her a few times, but I really don't know her. They have to be related somehow. Paige, can you check the information on him as well?" He waited for the young woman to manipulate the touch screen before leaning over her shoulder.

She quickly searched the database for the information, and it filled the screen in a matter of seconds. "He's a strong telepath," she began, reading though the rest before continuing, "possibly a dual-psionic. But there are some notes in here that show his telekinetic powers have been suppressed to heighten his telepathic abilities. In both of these files, I see various options that allows for the manipulation of their abilities from some kind of control room."

"That makes sense," Casey said. "Actually, I'm the one controlling their abilities."

"What?!" Niles and Sean both exclaimed simultaneously.

Casey didn't shy away from their accusing glares. "I'm responsible for maintaining the telepathic wavelength that is being broadcast across the entire campus, which also disrupts other telepathic abilities and puts up certain barriers, which are reinforced over time, unbeknownst to anyone here. That's why we can't remember stuff once we leave."

"That makes sense," Vanessa thoughtfully replied. "When we were here before, Mike said that something was keeping him from using his telepathy. Plus, we were having difficulty remembering certain things about this place, even how to get here."

"When I dispatch the Darkmen," Casey continued, "I never really thought about where they were coming from. All of the things that we're doing, they're coming from mutants who are being kept down here."

He glanced around at the rows of containment units, unknown mutants floating within the cylindrical chambers. He was hit with a pang of guilt, wishing that he had acted sooner. But still, it wouldn't have made a difference. Without access to the life support controls, Casey had no idea how to release the captives.

_"Banshee, what kind of madness were they doin' down 'ere?"_ Jono disgustedly asked. Despite all he had seen, he still couldn't fathom that any person would be capable of such inhumanity. He stared down their particular row, wondering what would have become of these mutants had they been given a chance to live their lives. Would they be students alongside them? Or would they have turned into villains like Emplate? Or would they have fallen victim to some anti-mutant hate group? Their lives could have been vastly different, but instead, they were entrapped with no immediate way out.

"Ah've never seen anythin' like this before," Sean whispered, his mind already racing through a plan to allow the captive to escape. "This Arminthorpe, he's a madman."

Niles agreed, "I don't doubt that. Especially after what I've seen down here. He's obsessed with mutant genetics, so much that he doesn't care about human life."

"Then you need to leave with us," Vanessa pleaded. "We've seen enough, we can call the police. They can arrest him. Chief Authier will—"

"He'll slip right through their fingers," Niles interjected, his heart racing as he decided his next course of action.

Miranda abruptly announced, "Niles, there's something else. "On the cameras, somewhere in this building, there's another containment unit. And in it...I saw _him_ there." She shifted her weight nervously, suddenly doubting herself. _No, I know what I saw_.

Pulled from his thoughts, Niles curiously inquired, "Who?"

"Mason Arminthorpe."

The room fell completely silent and still, the revelation hanging in the air. For just a moment, everyone paused to digest this new bit of information that changed everything they thought they know about the Corporation and the looming situation.

"You're saying there's an impostor?" Vanessa weakly clarified, suddenly feeling disoriented from the rush of information. "The person that we fought wasn't Mason Arminthorpe?"

"Yes," Casey answered. "I've suspected for a while. I wanted you to see that container, Ms. Vaughn. During my security checks several months ago, I discovered it. Since then, I've also noticed little things that are just off. But Trent and Lucas, they're so brainwashed that I don't think they realize that he isn't their father. Niles, you knew Caleb Larkin, right?"

Niles nodded. "Yes. He was the computer expert before you showed up."

"Do you remember what happened to him?"

"Actually, no, I don't."

"Neither do I. I think that may be due to our resident telepath here, scrambling our memories. In the notes he left, there was a cryptic message. There were directions about the cameras, but it was obvious that some of them were not in the listing he gave, due to the numbering system he used. After some hunting around, I discovered that the cameras were off, and they were the ones for these secret labs. Because he didn't tell me outright, and Mason never informed me, I knew this was something that wasn't meant for me to know. I started monitoring the cameras every now and again, and that's how I discovered the containment unit. For the most part, Mason's been busy, and I've stayed away from him, so I don't have to worry about him plucking this info from my brain."

Miranda shot Casey an accusing glare. "You knew but you didn't tell anyone?"

"That's correct. The others have totally bought into his genetic supremacy mission. If I informed any of them, they would tell him immediately. You're always by his side, but I saw how you interacted with Dr. Cain, so I took a chance that I could trust you. Whoever this guy is, he's good enough to replace a prominent figure like Mason Arminthorpe and smart enough to bolster his research in genetics. There was no way I could confront him."

"You should've—" Miranda began, but a calming hand from Niles quieted her.

"He's right," Niles said. "If he's an impostor, we don't know anything about him or what he's capable of. Casey, how long has Mason Arminthorpe been in that containment unit?"

"He's been there for fifteen years."

"Oh my god," Miranda gasped with horrible realization. "That also lines up with Elizabeth Arminthorpe's death. The imposter—he probably killed her because she's the only person that he couldn't have fooled."

Another blanket of silence covered the group.

"But this is all so strange," Paige said. "He's been doing this for fifteen years. Why did he suddenly make a mistake by kidnapping you?"

"A mistake?" Niles asked, confused.

"Thinking about it logically," she proposed, "kidnapping you gained the attention of his nephew and Michael, who were living in the city at the time. It's would have only been a matter of time before we got involved. And of course, that would draw the X-Men in. He's been operating under the radar for all this time. Why now?"

"He kidnapped me for two reasons: I'm one of his points of interest, and he's fascinated with Project Genesis, the study that the kids were under."

"But what is Project Genesis? Why is it special?" Paige questioned.

"My research uncovered that mutants themselves are evolving. We always presumed that mutation in and of itself was the end-state. But as we've come to find, there are varying levels of mutations. Dr. McCoy's and Dr. MacTaggert's research dubbed these levels in Greek increments, with Omega-level mutations being the highest and most dangerous mutations. In recent years, we've been seeing more and more Omega-level mutants with an unprecedented amount of power at the onset of their mutant traits. The students at your school possess exotic, unseen powers, which will evolve naturally. I suspect that all of them will mature to an Omega-level status. It's the same with the kids that were a part of Project Genesis. They have developing powers that we were monitoring and strengthening over time through training. In the case of Lily and Kiana, they have latent mutant abilities, but outside stimuli has interrupted their natural growth."

"Kiana and Lily? Something is..._wrong_...with them?" Vanessa asked.

"No, not necessarily," Niles retracted. "Kiana's powers are passive, giving her advantages for fighting and a power absorption ability specific to her family's mystical abilities. Lily—her situation is more complicated. But right now, her powers are being influenced through magical means. With that being said, they were two very interesting cases, so they were brought into the project as well."

Paige continued her questions. "And what about you?"

"I don't know. I've tested myself plenty of times, and I don't have a mutant gene. Dr. McCoy actually published some theoretical research on what he called the _true_ homo superior, a genetic development that allows people to be born with mutant abilities, but they lack the genetic imprint of a mutation."

Miranda caught Vanessa's puzzled expression. "In essence, they wouldn't be mutants. It's more of a natural evolution through genetic drift."

"You've been hanging around me too long if you're using terms like that," Niles half-joked.

"I've heard Moira speak o' th' concept as well," Sean said, instantly catching himself. The wound of her death was still biting, reminding him of his loss. He pushed away the thoughts, as he had for many weeks now, instead focusing on the present situation. The students needed him to be focused, and he needed to stay sharp.

"Wait, you know Dr. MacTaggert?!" Niles asked, his interest piqued.

"Aye," Sean's voice fell. "I knew th' lass very well. She—she was killed several weeks ago."

Shocked, Niles responded, "My condolences. I admired her work."

Vanessa shook her head, overwhelmed by the newfound information. "I don't understand. How could he pose as someone for fifteen years without anyone noticing? Not even his own sons?"

"I don't know," Niles simply responded.

Jono frowned. _"So, we're in the middle of one crisis, and suddenly there's a flood of information about this ongoing saga wit' Arminthorpe. What're we supposed ta do now, especially since you don't want ta go to the police?"_

Niles said, "I'm going to stay—"

Vanessa cut him off. "You can't stay here, Dr. Cain. That's the whole reason we joined Xavier's was to save you."

"But there's something much bigger going on," he calmly replied. "The only way we're going to figure this out is by being on the inside. Casey, Miranda, and I—we can figure out who this impostor is and what they're planning."

"Tis a dangerous game," Sean warned, remembering his own days of doing undercover work while being an Interpol agent. The risk was high, and his life had been placed in jeopardy far too many times for him to count. He couldn't imagine Niles, a genetic scientist, in the same position.

"I know the risk," Niles replied, much more confident than he felt. "We can't necessarily confront him head-on. And we're closer to him than anyone else can get right now."

"But what if he figures out that we know?" Miranda asked.

Niles already had a plan. "Carter," he announced, "we need your help. Spencer brought us here because he wanted us to see this—he wanted our help. I think you do too. The only way we can help you is if the three of us are telepathically shielded—subtle, like a maze loopback to keep anyone from knowing that they're being blocked. Can you do that?"

Almost immediately, the trio clutched their heads in sudden and agonizing pain. Surprised, Sean and the others tended to them, but there was nothing they could do except hope that the request was being honored.

After a few moments, the commotion stopped and the pain subsided, leaving Niles, Casey, and Miranda breathless, while the pangs of distress still remained.

"Could we've gotten some warning that it was going to hurt like hell?!" Casey complained, rubbing his forehead to ease the throbbing.

Miranda attempted to blink away the pain. "I'm sure this is far less excruciating than what the Mason-impostor would do if he discovered our plan."

"Good point," Niles agreed, massaging his temples. "All those tests he did on me weren't exactly pleasant, and he did those because he was interested. If he meant to torture me, I can only imagine what that would be like."

Sean stepped forward, locking eyes with Niles. "Are ye sure about this?"

"Yes, I am," Niles asserted. "We have to figure out the truth. And we have to work together to stop him."

Paige asked, "How are we going to know that you're okay?"

"I'll take care of that," Casey said. "Since I manage the network, I can send updates as an encrypted stream to you."

Vanessa shook her head, still in disbelief. "What am I supposed to tell the others?"

Niles met her gaze. "Tell them what you need to."

"There—there's no reason for us to stay at Xavier's," she concluded.

"You're wrong," Niles quickly replied. "I asked Professor Xavier to find all of you. There's no safer place to be. Especially after this. And there's no telling what we're going to discover once this is all over. I don't want any of you anywhere else."

Sean nodded in agreement as he glanced at his watch. "Aye. We've got t' get back t' th others. We're late for th' rendezvous."

"We should go with you. You may need our help," Miranda said.

Together, the group headed toward the elevator. While their main focus was finding the others to stop the merger, each one of them wondered what darker secrets remained within the Arminthorpe Corporation.

Notes:

X-Men, Generation X, and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional.


End file.
